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The 
Faience  Violin 


i    9  5  «  •  » 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH 


HELEN     B.     DOLE 


TEW  [YORK :  46  East  14TH  Street 

'HOMAS^.  CROWELL   &   COMPANY 

BOSTON:    100  Purchase  Street 


Copyright,  1S95 
THOMAS    Y.   CROWEI.L    &    CO. 


PRESS   or 

IttOiktodI  ana  Churcljill 

BOSTON 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Chapter  Page 

Frontispiece. 

Preface    

Bastard  Title 

I.     The  Old  Bridge  at  Nevers 

Sometimes      Gardilanne      even 
lighted  a  candle     .     •     . 
II.     The  Rag-picker's  Shop  .     . 

One  of  the  Nevers  specimens 
presented  by  Gardilanne  . 

III.  Dal^gre's  First  Consignment 

He  looked  to  see  if  some  impor- 
tant piece  were  not  fastened 
above  the  fireplace  .... 

IV.  The  Infirmary 39 

The    faience   bottle    discovered 

by  Dal^gre 55 

V.     The   Faience  Violin   and   the 

Plate  with  Ballads    .     .       56 
The    box    containing    unimpor- 
tant specimens 64 

VI.     The  Ducal  Palace  at  Nevers,       65 
Dal^gre's  game-bag   ....       75 
ill 


38 


ivj91992 


iv  List  of  Ilhistrations, 


Chapter  Page 

VII.     Bara's  Shop 77 

He  took  down  his  faience  speci- 
mens at  Gardilanne's  arrival,       93 
VIII.     The  drumming  up  of  FaYences 

ON  THE  Market  of  Nevers,       95 
Eggs  were  served  for  his  break- 
fast       119 

IX.     The  Old  Roofs  of  Nevers      .     120 
At   the   door  of  the  junk-shop 
were  displayed  odd  volumes  .      137 
X.     The  Cupboard  containing  the 

Violin 138 

Gardilanne  had  wrapped  up  the 

violin  in  paper 148 

XI.     The  Plates  on  the  Ceiling    .     149 

The  ballads  of  Mondonville        .      156 

XII.     The  Collector's  Ideal  .     .     .     157 

The    Henri    ii.    thimble    from 

the  Rattier  sale      .     .     .     .      174 

XIII.  The  Dutch  Stable  decorated 

with  FaYence  Plaques  .     .  175 
The  special  room  of  the  Gardi- 
lanne Collection      .      .      .  188 

XIV.  Dal^gre's  Garden      .     .     .     .  190 

The    broken    violin,  —  destruc- 
tion of  pottery 200 

XV.     Dalegre's  Nightmare      .     .     .     202 

The   cradle   of    Dal^gre's    chil- 
dren  205 


PREFACE. 


The  little  romance  here  republished 
first  appeared  in  1861  in  "La  Presse," 
a  journal  having  a  very  wide  circulation 
at  that  time. 

"The  Faience  Violin"  caused  no  sub- 
scriptions to  be  withdrawn  —  a  remarka- 
ble fact,  considering  the  forty  thousand 
subscribers,  representing  forty  thousand 
different  tastes. 


vi  Preface. 


Journalism  was  at  that  time  undergo- 
ing a  great  transformation,  and  was  to 
create  a  large  number  of  readers  count- 
ing several  hundred  thousand  diges- 
tions more  robust  than  intellectual, 
capable  of  devouring  and  assimilating 
stories  blacker  than  the  ink  in  which 
they  were  printed. 

Just  then  the  situation  was  advanta- 
geous to  all  who  aspired  to  **  write  for 
the  papers."  The  composing  a  novel,  its 
development,  its  management,  had  be- 
come details  of  luxury,  and  I  have  else- 
where related  how  I  unexpectedly  made 
the  acquaintance  of  a  little  scullion,  sent 
to  me  by  a  pastry-cook,  his  master,  and 
how  he  left  on  my  table  a  voluminous 
manuscript  entitled,  "  What  becomes  of 
Bastards."  This  little  scullion,  who, 
without  doubt,  had  leisure,  understood 
his  time,  and  his  story  was  not  inferior 


Preface,  vii 

to  those  of  other  literary  scullions  whom 
it  is  useless  to  mention. 
.  If  I  might  be  allowed  to  be  my  own 
critic,  —  not  too  severe  a  one,  how- 
ever, —  I  should  gladly  acknowledge 
that,  from  the  nature  of  the  subject, 
"The  Faience  Violin  "  ought  to  pass  for 
something  exceptional,  the  passion  for 
ceramics  not  having  reached,  in  1861, 
the  development  which  has  since  been 
increasing  from  year  to  year.  It  may 
well  be  admitted  that  this  love  for 
fa'ience  was  only  the  setting  of  the 
drama,  and  that  the  hobby  for  collect- 
ing carried  to  such  a  degree  of  enthusi- 
asm deserves  to  be  studied  almost  as 
much  as  the  passion  for  women  and 
gambling,  ambition  or  avarice. 

The  favorable  criticisms  that  the  most 
unimportant  work  brings  to  its  author 
are  numerous,  and  there  are  few  writers 


viii  Preface. 

who,  out  of  complacency,  are  not  ready 
to  speak  of  them  to  their  readers. 
Sainte-Beuve,  in  his  "  Monday  Conver- 
sations," spoke  in  sympathetic  terms  of 
"  The  Faience  VioHn  ;  "  but  his  criticism 
was  only  incidental  in  a  general  study 
of  my  investigations  in  the  domain  of 
arts  and  popular  poetry. 

I  was  touched  the  most  deeply  by  a 
subsequent  notice  in  a  Boston  review,^ 
in  which  the  story  was  analyzed  and 
studied  with  a  minuteness  to  which  we, 
in  France,  are  unaccustomed. 

To  sketch  a  little  provincial  drama, 
to  drop  into  it,  as  into  a  waffle-iron,  ex- 
ceptional matter,  which  is  connected 
with  the  popular  train  of  thought  only 
by  a  slight  thread  of  interest,  to  be  un- 
derstood   by  a  writer  beyond    the  sea, 

^  W.  H.  Bishop,  "  The  Faience  Violin,"  in  the  "  Atlan- 
tic Monthly,"  Boston,  1879. 


Preface.  ix 

who  calls  the  attention  of  his  fellow- 
countrymen  to  a  foreign  work,  —  this 
is  the  most  pleasing  reward  that  the 
author  of  a  book  can  attain,  one  that 
makes  him  forget  the  labor  of  its  com- 
position. 

Not  that  *'  The  Faience  Violin  "  cost 
me  any  great  pains  —  it  flowed  quite 
spontaneously  from  my  pen,  as  a 
stream  of  clear  water  springs  from  the 
crevices  of  a  rock. 

For  ten  years  I  travelled  through 
France,  impelled  by  an  idea  which 
led  me  later  on  to  undertake  the 
**  History  of  Patriotic  FaTence  in  the 
Time  of  the  Revolution."  Having  per- 
sonally visited  a  number  of  collectors, 
I  was  enabled  to  gather  a  quantity  of 
materials  of  ceramic  interest  about  men 
and  things. 

Endowed  by  nature,  rather  than   by 


X  Preface. 

effort,  with  the  gift  of  regarding  serious 
matters  lightly  and  considering  trifling 
matters  seriously,  I  was  able,  without 
trouble  or  exertion,  to  draw  from  my 
memory  an  accumulation  of  facts,  and 
thus  to  communicate  pleasing  impres- 
sions to  the  public ;  for  the  reader  is 
not  touched  in  the  least  by  the  elabo- 
rate and  studied  effects  considered  as 
the  brightest  gems  in  their  crown  by 
some  writers  who  make  great  pretence 
and  boast  of  them.  He  expects  the 
mirror  of  the  comedy  presented  to  him 
to  be  clear  and  bright,  free  from  lights 
and  shadows. 

"  The  Faience  Violin,"  a  spontaneous 
effort,  does  not  belong  in  the  least  to 
the  category  of  works  for  which  authors 
tear  their  hair,  when  they  have  any  left 
to  tear. 

It  is  the  fashion  at  the  present  time 


Preface.  xi 


to  make  great  account  of  the  realism 
of  a  story.  In  the  majority  of  modern 
romances  the  author  lets  it  be  under- 
stood that  he  could  give  the  key  to  it. 
They  believe  in  piquing  the  curiosity 
by  giving  out  that  they  have  only 
painted  characters  frequenting  the  Bou- 
levard, the  Bois,  or  the  Opera.  If  in- 
tellectual realism  were  reduced  to  this 
process,  the  ''  Gazette  des  Tribunaux " 
would  surpass  the  important  creations 
of  the  masters. 

What  does  the  public  care  whether 
a  portrait  is  painted  after  nature,  if  it 
is  badly  painted  !  or  whether  facts  are 
real,  if  they  are  not  logically  dis- 
posed ? 

Would  you  have  the  declaration  of 
a  man  who  has  followed,  as  closely  as 
possible,  this  realism  with  which  criti- 
cism has    found  so  much    fault?     It  is 


xii  Preface, 

wholly  a  matter  of  choice,  an  arrange- 
ment, a  result  of  the  imagination  always 
seeking  by  induction  to  make  the  truth 
stand  out,  a  hammer  knocking  at  the 
writer's  heart,  and  if  it  fails  to  bring 
forth  an  answering  vibration  it  may  be 
treated  like  a  poor  clock,  to  be  rele- 
gated to  the  garret. 

In  what  ministerial  ante-chambers, 
in  what  taverns,  what  green-rooms,  did 
Lesage  meet  his  grand  lords,  his 
swindlers,  his  lackeys,  his  actresses? 
The  critics  know  nothing  about  it; 
they  have  tried  in  vain,  with  more 
than  one  bunch  of  keys,  to  open  the 
lock  of  "  Gil  Bias."  All  the  characters 
taking  part  in  this  remarkable  comedy 
have  remained  unknown ;  nevertheless 
they  constitute  actors  in  the  finest,  the 
most  vivid  French  romance  extant. 

I     feel     some    embarrassment,     after 


Preface.  xiii 


giving  so  lofty  an  example,  in  saying 
that  in  "  The  Faience  Violin "  I  made 
use  of  two  types,  one  of  which  was 
very  prominent  in  the  little  world  of 
amateur  collectors  of  curiosities,  and 
which  I  have  never  met  with ;  the 
other,  a  modest  scholar,  living  in  the 
country:  if  I  should  tell  his  name, 
would  the  strangers  who  read  stories 
be  any  more  interested?  They  de- 
mand that  Gardilanne  and  Dalegre  be 
substantial  enough  to  take  part  in  the 
fictitious  civil  state  made  use  of  by 
romancers, 

*'  The  Faience  Violin  "  was  planned 
in  this  way.  Perhaps  a  word  ought  to 
be  said  about  the  author's  preferences 
in  regard  to  form :  it  is  not  conspicu- 
ous and  can  serve  no  one  as  a  model ; 
its  sole  ambition  is  to  be  modest, 
simply    adorned,    and    thus    to    escape 


xiv  Preface, 


getting  out  of  fashion,  as  too  often 
happens  to  works  brilHant  in  appear- 
ance. 

In  spite  of  the  interesting  investiga- 
tions for  enriching  the  language,  pro- 
duced from  1820  to  1880,  in  spite  of 
the  passionate  words  branded  into  it, 
the  use  of  which,  it  seems  to  me,  has 
been  particularly  advantageous  to  poe- 
try, if  I  turn  to  the  masters  of  prose  I 
do  not  believe  that  I  shall  appear  mad 
over  the  classics  if  I  say  that  Moliere, 
La  Fontaine,  and  Saint-Simon  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  Lesage,  Voltaire, 
and  Diderot  in  the  eighteenth,  offer 
sufficient  resources  for  modern  thought, 
and  that  all  passion,  however  profound, 
can  be  expressed  by  this  language  es- 
tablished for  a  long  time. 

Such  is  the  Pantheon  of  the  gods 
whom    I    admire,  and    whose    names    I 


Preface.  xv 


write  without  fear  of  calling  forth  a 
crushing  comparison. 

On  a  less  prominent  plane  I  shall 
place  the  Abbe  Prevost,  Bernardin  de 
Saint-Pierre,  Sedaine,  Xavier  de  Maistre, 
who  fortunately  are  not  "  impeccable  " 
masters,  but  the  ingenuity  of  whose 
stories  must  be  enjoyed  in  their  inmost 
essence  rather  than  studied  ;  they  wrote 
impelled  by  "  sentiment"  rather  than  by 
ambitious  theories. 

To  these  men  may  be  added  many 
other  writers  who  care  for  their  stories, 
and  only  incidentally  consider  the  form. 
The  exclusive  worship  of  fine  phraseol- 
ogy, the  art  of  rhetoric  too  often  con- 
cealing the  emptiness  of  the  thought, 
render  them,  perhaps,  indifferent  to 
sensational  works.  The  eyes  of  these 
"lakeists"  turn  more  gladly  to  the 
white    house    with   green  blinds,  which 


xvi  Preface. 

only  accidentally  conforms  to  architect- 
ural laws,  and  it  seems  that  from  one  of 
these  little  modest  cottages,  built  at  little 
expense  to  its  owner,  a  poet,  M.  Paul 
Arene,  has  been  willing  to  speak,  saying 
with  great  friendly  good-will  that  "  The 
Faience  Violin  "  was  written  very 
frankly,  ''which,"  he  adds,  ''  is  perhaps, 
as  the  etymology  suggests,  the  best  way 
of  writing  French." 

Let  me  erase  best  and  accept  the  defi- 
nition. 

I  am  making  too  much  of  a  story  a 
new  edition  of  which  the  publisher  has 
charged  me  with  introducing  to  the 
public.  I  must  add  a  word  with  regard 
to  the  illustrations  of  this  book.  A 
skilful  engraver,  M.  J.  Adeline,  has 
kindly  consented  to  my  wish  to  have 
the  text  illustrated  solely  with  subjects 
from  still  life. 


Preface.  xvii 

It  is  not  a  caprice.  It  seems  to  me 
almost  impossible  for  an  artist  to  render 
with  all  their  exterior  expression,  their 
similitude,  the  characters  seen  by  the 
writer  and  delineated  by  him  with  a 
sometimes  annoying  precision  ;  possibly 
the  Berlin  Chodowiecki,  possibly  Henry 
Monnier,  might  have  been  able  to  trans- 
late the  author's  thought. 

The  present  time,  which  counts  so 
many  talented  artists,  has  not  brought 
to  my  notice  the  painter  I  desired,  trans- 
parent as  the  little  drama  is,  to  render 
the  action  of  the  characters  ;  that  is  why, 
leaving  to  the  engraver  the  interpretation 
of  old  shops,  ancient  country  houses, 
wonderful  objects  found  in  the  city  and 
country,  the  painter  could  still  draw 
from  his  memory  various  motifs  worthy 
of  his  etching-needle,  to  serve  as  deco- 
rative settings  for  the  headings  of  chap- 


xviii  Preface. 

ters,    or    to    end    them    with    deHcately 
elaborated  tail-pieces. 

In  this  kind  of  illustration  curiosity 
collaborates  in  a  certain  way  with  the 
work  thus  presented.  Around  *'  The 
Faience  Violin "  the  reader's  imagina- 
tion will  create  for  him  the  moving 
characters,  their  gestures,  their  joys, 
their  covetousness,  their  misfortunes. 

Do  not  these  details,  these  profiles, 
mentally  drawn  as  a  help  to  the  text, 
form  a  varied,  manifold,  and  personal 
illustration,  of  more  value  than  inaccu- 
rate faces,  false  gestures,  and  conven- 
tional  clothes? 

Champfleury. 

Sevres,  December,  1884. 


THE 

FAIENCE  VIOLIN. 


CHAMPFLEURY. 


^vAu  \^l\^\:,_^ 


THE   FAIENCE  Vil.QUN." 


Who,  in  Nevers,  has  not 
heard  of  Dalegre,  one  of  the 
most  pronounced  examples  of 
the  Nivernian  type  —  that  is 
to  say,  a  man  small  of  stature, 
gay,  smiling,  affable,  with  a 
highly  colored  face,  bearing 
traces  of  the  wine  of  the  coun- 
try, just  as  a  chevalier  in  old 
times  used  to  bear  the  colors 
of  his  lady? 


«!5|f|gj^ 


'' '  '^Tke  Faience  Violin, 


\\  pa^^^^e  w^s  A^ne  oi  the  best  of  corn- 
fades' in  a  tdwri'fich  in  boon  compan- 
ions, sound  in  body  and  mind,  choice  in 
their  selection  of  words,  not  afraid  of  a 
witty  remark,  and  enjoying  hfe  Hke  gay 
fellows,  prudent  enough  not  to  consume 
it  all  at  once. 

From  the  age  of  twenty  to  thirty- 
five  Dalegre  filled  the  country  with  his 
name.  No  festival  was  a  success  with- 
out him ;  he  was  a  fine  dancer,  and 
mothers  never  failed  to  inquire  of  their 
daughters:  ''Have  you  been  asked  by 
M.  Dalegre?" 

So,  for  fifteen  years,  Dalegre  was 
king  of  the  town.  With  a  little  ambi- 
tion, he  might  have  made  a  greater 
name  for  himself;  but  as  the  round  of 
pleasures  carried  him  along,  he  let  him- 
self go  till  one  day  this  perpetual  life  of 
hunting,  dining,  balls,  and    fetes  began 


The  Faience  Violin,  5 


to  weary  him,  and  he  made  a  trip  to 
Paris. 

Unfortunately  for  him,  Dalegre  met 
there  an  old  college  friend,  Gardilanne, 
whose  character  was  as  opposite  from 
his  as  could  be  imagined. 

Gardilanne,  chief  clerk  to  the  minis- 
ter of  foreign  affairs,  was  thin,  sickly, 
generally  low-spirited.  Gardilanne  had 
a  miserable  stomach ;  Dalegre  had  a 
digestion  of  iron. 

The  two  friends  understood  each 
other  nevertheless,  as  the  Nivernian 
was  naturally  inclined,  on  account  of 
his  happy  disposition,  to  accept  the 
habits  of  those  with  whom  he  came  in 
contact,  provided  they  would  leave  him 
to  his  own  caprices. 

At  the  restaurant  where  Gardilanne 
took  Dalegre,  he  brought  out  of  his 
pocket  a  little  vial  holding  a  finger  of 


6  The  Faience  Violin, 


wine,  the  only  kind  that  agreed  with 
him;  it  did  not  prevent  his  companion, 
however,  from  drinking  an  excellent 
bottle    of   Gorton. 

Dalegre  went  to  the  theatre.  Gardi- 
lanne  went  home,  for  the  chief  clerk 
made  it  a  rule  to  go  to  bed  at  nine 
o'clock ;  he  said  he  could  preserve  his 
frail  health  only  by  taking  incessant 
precautions,  such  as  eating  at  regular 
hours,  taking  little  food  at  a  time,  but 
often,  having  neither  wife,  children,  nor 
passions,  nor  anxieties  of  any  kind. 

Amazed  at  this  sort  of  life,  Dalegre 
wondered  what  pleasures  could  be  en- 
joyed in  Paris  by  a  bachelor  of  forty, 
whose  only  society  was  a  crabbed  serv- 
ing woman,  and  he  really  believed  that 
Gardilanne  had  no  passions.  In  this 
respect  he  was  a  poor  observer,  as  his 
stay  in  Paris  proved  to  him  later  on. 


The  Faience  Violin, 


Every  morning  Gardilanne  rose  at  six 
o'clock,  and  partook  of  a  modest  meal. 
Whether  it  was  windy,  whether  it  hailed, 
rained,  or  snowed,  the  chief  clerk  paced 
the  streets  for  three  hours,  beginning  at 
the  faubourg  Saint-Antoine  and  the  rue 
de  Lappe  and  ending  at  the  quai  Vol- 
taire. 

Gardilanne  thought  himself  passion- 
less :  he  was  an  excessively  passionate 
being,  as  restless  as  a  lover  going  to  his 
first  meeting  with  his  sweetheart !  more 
subjected  to  tyranny  than  the  most 
ambitious,  as  nervous  as  a  gambler, 
with  eyes  as  full  of  fire  as  a  Corsican 
lying  in  wait  for  his  enemy,  as  spark- 
ling as  those  of  a  gourmand  at  a  feast, 
with  hands  as  convulsive  as  those  of  a 
man  whose  last  card  represents  ruin  or 
fortune. 

No  passions !      Gardilanne    possessed 


8  The  Faience  Violin, 


them  all  melted  into  one  alone,  the 
most  tyrannical  of  all,  the  passion  for 
collecting ! 

Gardilanne  loved  beautiful  furniture, 
choice  pictures,  just  as  a  woman  takes 
pleasure  in  handling  old  laces.  India 
and  Japan  appeared  to  him  In  the 
shape  of  sacred  elephants  or  fantastic 
crabs  in  precious  metals ;  Limoges 
enamel,  artists'  proofs  of  rare  engrav- 
ings, ivories,  Venetian  glass,  Italian 
bas-reliefs  of  the  sixteenth  century,  at- 
tracted his  admiration  as  well  as  sump- 
tuous Eastern  stuffs,  Henry  II.  fa'ience, 
miniatures,  arms,  snuff-boxes,  chests, 
and  credences. 

To  satisfy  his  thirst  as  a  collector 
coveting  every  priceless  object,  Gardi- 
lanne was  avaricious  enough  to  mal- 
treat his  body  within  and  without, 
depriving  himself  of  proper    food  and 


The  Faience  Violin.  g 


clothing,  in  order  to  save  each  day  a 
few  francs  to  throw  to  the  monster  bric- 
a-brac. 

The  chief  clerk  could  hardly  sleep 
at  night,  always  dreaming  of  objects 
more  marvellous  than  the  treasures  of 
the  "  Arabian  Nights."  The  Hghtning 
might  have  struck  in  the  street  without 
disturbing  Gardilanne  when  he  was  gaz- 
ing at  a  shop  window,  casting  his  eye 
over  a  heap  of  worthless  objects,  in  the 
hope  of  finding  a  chance  prize. 

No  passions  !  Gardilanne  could  have 
taught  a  cat  watching  for  a  mouse. 
When,  looking  as  cool  as  a  judge,  he 
was  bargaining  for  a  lot  of  medicine 
bottles,  in  the  mean  stall  of  a  second- 
hand dealer  in  rue  Mouffetard,  who 
would  have  thought  that  the  frame  of 
an  emblazoned  arm-chair  hanging  from 
the  ceiling  was  the  prey  which  attracted 


lo  77?^  Faience  Violin. 


Gardilanne,  calling  himself  a  dealer  in 
broken  glass  in  order  to  get  possession 
of  the  seat  in  which,  perhaps,  the  great 
Conde  sat? 

No  passions  !  What  was  the  mean- 
ing of  those  greenish  wrinkles  in  a  yel- 
low, glossy  skin,  that  parchment  drawn 
tightly  over  protruding  cheek-bones, 
those  hollow  eyes  incessantly  gleaming 
with  a  feverish  light,  those  shoulders 
prematurely  bent,  that  anticipated  old 
age? 

Deep  poverty  could  not  have  emaci- 
ated the  chief  clerk  so  much :  although 
but  three  years  older  than  Dalegre,  he 
might  have  passed  for  his  father,  a 
miserly  father  too,  his  face  was  so 
drawn,  his  clothing  so  threadbare. 

Dalegre  found  Gardilanne  very  much 
aged,  for  he  had  lost  sight  of  his  friend 
since    they   were    in    college ;     but    he 


The  Faience  Violin.  ii 


made  no  allusion  to  this,  for  such  ob- 
servations are  not  usually  well  received. 
Moreover,  he  was  dazzled  by  the  quan- 
tity of  precious  objects  with  which 
Gardilanne's  apartment  was  filled,  so 
crowded  with  wonderful  things  that  it 
might  have  been  taken  for  the  queen 
of  Sheba's  storehouse. 

There  was  n't  a  place  to  set  one's 
foot  in  these  rooms !  The  customary 
furniture  was  wanting;  the  place  was 
overflowing  with  marquetry  cabinets, 
'etageres  with  heavy  twisted  columns, 
ponderous  chests,  which  would  have 
threatened  the  stability  of  a  Parisian 
flooring,  if  Gardilanne  had  not  happened 
to  live  on  the  solidly  constructed  ground 
floor  of  an  old  hotel. 

A  suite  of  rooms  solidly  tiled  with 
marble  slabs  enabled  him  to  amass  in 
them    ancient    wainscoting,    works    of 


12  The  Faience  Violin. 


wrought  iron,  great  frieze  panels  taken 
away,  by  the  Black  Band,  from  old 
manor  houses  in  Auvergne.  Gardi- 
lanne's  apartments  were  large,  but  full 
to  overflowing.  You  had  to  be  careful 
of  your  elbows,  or  your  hat,  whenever 
you  made  the  slightest  movement.  It 
was  a  disorderly  museum,  which,  in  its 
conglomeration  of  objects,  nevertheless 
displayed  riches  of  every  sort. 

Yet  Gardilanne's  sole  income  was 
from  a  position  which  brought  him  only 
five  thousand  francs ;  but  he  supplied 
lack  of  money  with  patience,  endless 
activity,  unequalled  perspicacity,  and 
deep  cunning,  which  made  him  the  king 
of  barterers  among  collectors,  for  his 
patience,  his  activity,  his  instinct,  and 
his  salary  of  five  thousand  francs,  a 
maximum  which  he  had  only  received 
during  the  past  year,  would  have  been 


The  Faience  Violin.  13 

insufficient  to  allow  him  to  keep  this  in- 
comparable collection. 

Gardilanne's  secret  (he  did  not  tell 
this  to  his  friend)  consisted  in  supply- 
ing various  amateur  collectors  with 
whatever  curiosities  they  wanted. 

Rising  very  early  in  the  morning, 
Gardilanne  swept  away  everything  from 
the  shops  that  he  knew  would  suit  one 
person  and  another.  By  dint  of  observ- 
ing and  comparing,  since  he  was  thor- 
oughly acquainted  with  the  complicated 
science  of  bric-a-brac,  he  was  the  best 
man  in  Paris  to  consult  about  a  mark, 
an  authorship,  a  genealogy,  and  the 
various  peregrinations  of  a  work  of 
art. 

Gardilanne  could  have  taught  the 
most  crafty  auctioneers  a  lesson,  and  the 
best  argument,  among  amateurs,  in  re- 
gard to  a  doubtful  object  was  to  quote 


14  The  Faience  Violin, 


the  opinion  of  this  celebrated  collector, 
who  was  an  authority  in  the  place. 

So  fine  a  tact  enabled  him  to  detect 
valuable  objects  through  the  mould  that 
covered  them,  and  he  obtained  them 
with  very  little  money ;  and,  as  knowl- 
edge in  any  direction  is  as  good  as 
capital,  at  the  end  of  fifteen  years  Gar- 
dilanne  had  succeeded  in  becoming-  the 
owner  of  a  number  of  works  of  art  to 
which  fashion  had  not  yet  taken  a 
fancy,  and  which  he  caused  to  be  recog- 
nized later  on,  not  only  as  rare,  but  also 
as  works  of  real  value. 

So  Gardilanne  was  happy,  happier 
without  a  stomach  than  Delegre  in  the 
midst  of  a  feast. 

The  Nivernian  admired  with  assur- 
ance the  collection  of  splendors  which 
filled  the  apartment;  but  he  could  not 
guess  the  secret  joy  of  his  friend,  who, 


The  Faience  Violin.  15 


as  soon  as  he  entered  the  house,  saw 
the  gates  of  paradise  open. 

In  these  cold  rooms,  without  fire, 
Gardilanne  began  to  walk  about  at  day- 
break, looking  affectionately  at  each  of 
the  objects  he  had  saved  from  destruction. 

Imagine  the  joy  of  a  mother  whose 
child  has  been  snatched  from  the  jaws 
of  death  by  a  skilful  physician  !  Such 
were  Gardilanne's  rapturous  feelings. 
He  had  found  the  larger  part  of  his 
curiosities  cracked,  nicked,  or  broken, 
and  he  had  given  them  a  second  life 
with  their  pristine  glory. 

The  bachelor,  without  children,  had 
thus  created  a  family.  There  was  not 
an  object  which  did  not  remind  him 
of  a  long  research,  profound  contriv- 
ances, schemes,  —  a  drama  ! 

Sometimes  Gardilanne  would  even 
rise  in  the  night  and  light  a  candle  to 


1 6  The  Faience  Violin. 


satisfy  his  ardent  curiosity  and  feed  on 
the  sight  of  a  new  acquisition. 

When  he  awoke  there  were  still  new 
joys,  ecstasies  equal  to  those  of  the 
miser  counting  and  recounting  his 
gold,  for  Gardilanne  united  to  his  taste 
for  art  a  material  satisfaction  which 
made  him  exclaim  at  every  turn : 
"  This  collection  represents  millions  !  " 

Perhaps  Gardilanne  happened  to 
specify  his  collection  in  this  positive 
way  because  he  was  certain  that  this 
manner  of  speaking  would  strike  most 
effectively  on  the  ears  of  the  ignorant. 
He  said  it  to  others  without  fear  of 
boring  them,  repeated  it  to  himself, 
and  made  no  mystery  of  it  to  Dalegre, 
who  opened  his  eyes  in  surprise. 

How  could  a  clerk  with  a  salary  of 
five  thousand  francs  have  accumulated 
millions?     Dalegre    could    not    explain 


The  Faience  Violin.  17 


this,  even  when  Gardilanne  invited  him 
one  morning  to  go  with  him  on  one 
of  his  customary  expeditions  through 
alleys,  lanes,  and  even  the  wretched 
holes  of  the  Jewish  quarter.  This  ex- 
pedition lasted  no  less  than  four  hours, 
at  the  end  of  which  Dalegre  came  back 
worn  out;  he  who  was  accustomed  to 
every  sort  of  physical  exercise ;  but 
the  Nivernian  had  not  the  passion  for 
bric-a-brac. 

Running  from  one  faubourg  to 
another  in  Paris  did  not  much  interest 
him,  and  he  could  not  help  showing 
his  disgust  in  a  rag-picker's  shop  in 
the  rue  de  I'Epee-de-Bois,  where  Gar- 
dilanne hunted  out  some  fragments  of 
antique  tapestries  from  under  a  heap 
of  rabbit  skins  and  bones  of  all  sorts 
giving  forth  nauseous  odors. 

If  Dalegre    had    been  endowed  with 


1 8  The  Faience  Violin. 


the  power  of  observation  he  would 
have  noticed  the  man's  emotion,  his 
gleaming  eyes,  a  tension  of  the  nerves 
which  made  Gardilanne's  hand  suddenly 
grow  long  like  a  violin-player's;  his 
fingers,  assuming  Jewish  positions, 
needed  only  the  hooked  nails. 

The  chief  clerk  rummaged  about  in 
this  mass  of  rags  with  the  instinct  of 
the  miser  and  the  coolness  of  a  surgeon 
hastening  to  shorten  a  painful  opera- 
tion. He  fumbled  with  both  hands, 
while  his  eyes,  like  a  police  officer's, 
assumed  the  singular  faculty  of  looking 
in  different  directions,  allowing  Gar- 
dilanne  to  see  in  front  of  him,  beside 
him,  and  almost  behind  his  back. 

Dalegre  was  lacking  in  that  sense  of 
the  beautiful  which  grants  its  acolytes 
the  power  of  detecting  a  pure  and 
spotless  work  of  art,  hidden   like  gold 


The  Faience  Violin, 


19 


in  the  crucible  under  the  drpss  of  the 
molten  metal ;  that  is  why,  caring  little 
for  such  discoveries,  and  not  taking  the 
slightest  interest  in  them,  Dalegre,  sick 
at    his    stomach,    stood    on    one    foot. 


hardly  daring  to  place  the  other  on 
the  dirty  floor  of  this  mean  little 
shop. 

The  memory  of  the  smiling  fields  of 
Nevers  came  back  to  him  in  the  miser- 
able rue  de  I'Epee-de-Bois;  the  hares 
coming  out  of  their  burrows  appeared 


20  The  Faience  Violin. 


to  him  along  the  road,  within  gunshot, 
and  he  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
Gardilanne  was  subject  to  the  same 
passion  as  himself  for  hunting,  only  it 
was  applied  to  antiques. 


When  Dalegre 
was  about  to  return 
to  the  country  Gar- 
dilanne  said  to  him : 

**  Are  you  familiar 
with  the  faience  of 
Nevers?" 

''No,"   reph'ed  Da- 
legre. 

Gardilanne 
shrugged       his 
shoulders. 


22  The  Faience  Violin, 


"  What !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  *'  you  Hve  in 
in  a  country  where  they  make  the  most 
beautiful  French  faience,  and  you  are  not 
even  aware  of  its  existence !  I  pity 
you  !  " 

Dalegre  smiled. 

"  To-morrow  morning,"  continued 
Gardilanne,  *'  come  early  and  take  your 
first  lesson ;  it  is  absolutely  necessary 
for  a  man  like  you  to  know  about 
faience.  It  is  Nevers's  chief  claim  to 
glory." 

"  Of  what  use  would  it  be  for  me  to 
become  a  connoisseur?"  said  Dalegre, 
whose  bump  of  local  enthusiasm  was 
not  very  well  developed. 

*'  Not  to  pass  for  an  ignoramus." 

*'  Pooh  !  "  said  Dalegre. 

But  Gardilanne  returned  to  the 
charge  and  made  his  friend  promise  that 
he  would  try  to  be  instructed ;  at  the 
same  time  he  explained  his  idea  to  him. 


The  Faience  Violin.  23 


'*  In  Paris,"  he  said,  "  we  have  no 
fine  specimens  of  the  potteries  of 
Nevers,  because  porcelain  up  to  the 
present  time  has  the  advantage  over 
faience ;  but  the  day  will  come  when 
the  latter  will  triumph  and  take  the 
precedency  before  its  rival.  A  revolu- 
tion is  going  to  take  place  in  ceramics 
like  that  which  broke  out  in  '89. 
Fa'ience  is  the  bourgeoisie  which  de- 
mands a  recognition  of  its  rights,  and 
the  fate  of  the  nobility  is  reserved  for 
porcelain.  It  will  not  be  persecuted ; 
but  it  will  fall  into  oblivion,  and  only 
snobs,  in  order  to  give  themselves  airs 
of  great  lords,  will  care  for  this  cold, 
pretentious  ware." 

Dalegre  did .  not  understand  the 
lesson ;  he  cared  little  for  the  declara- 
tion of  the  Third  Estate,  and  the  Abbe 
Sieyes's  little  book  had  never  filled  him 


24  The  Faience  Violin, 


with  dreams.  He  was  above  all  a  man 
of  pleasure,  but  he  was  a  devoted  friend, 
as  he  proved  in  this  case. 

Seeing  that  Gardilanne  was  exceed- 
ingly anxious  for  specimens  of  the 
fa'ience  of  Nevers,  he  tried  to  under- 
stand his  friend's  lessons,  although  he 
had  difficulty  to  fix  in  his  mind  the 
yellows,  the  blues,  and  th.Q  greens  which 
form  the  base  of  Nivernian  decoration. 

He  listened  abstractedly  to  the  his- 
tory of  the  production  of  his  province : 
for  instance,  that  Italian  artists  came  to 
settle  in  Nevers  at  the  end  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  attracted  thither  by  the 
dukes,  and  that  they  had  modelled  and 
painted  objects  of  a  certain  shape. 

At  the  same  time  Gardilanne  placed 
before  him  a  valuable  specimen,  a  sort 
of  ewer  with  handles  in  the  form  of 
twisted    cords.     But    what     the    chief 


The  Faience  Violin.  25 


clerk  desired  above  everything  was 
specimens  of  ivJiite  on  bine,  the  only  ex- 
ample of  which  in  the  collector's  cabinet 
consisted  of  an  enamelled  tile  from  the 
palace  of  the  dukes  of  Nevers. 

"  A  marvel  of  ornamentation  rivalling 
the  sopra  bianco  of  the  Italian  schools  !  " 
he  exclaimed. 

Gardilanne  put  the  marvel  into 
Dalegre's  hand,  and  he  looked  at  it 
with  as  much  amazement  as  a  bat  at  an 
exhibition  of  fireworks. 

"  My  dear  Dalegre,"  said  the  chief 
clerk,  *'  the  potters  of  your  province  at 
that  time  almost  equalled  the  admirable 
workmen  of  Persia." 

Dalegre  made  no  reply,  but  still  held 
the  enamelled  tile,  which  he  found  rather 
heavy. 

"  Notice  the  quality  of  this  tile !  " 
continued  Gardilanne,  annoyed    by  his 


26  The  Faience  Violin, 


friend's  indifference.  "  The  enamel  is 
thick,  and  at  the  same  time  transparent, 
is  it  not?  How  harmonious  to  the 
eye  are  these  birds  and  flowers  im- 
pasted in  white  !  " 

He  seized  Dalegre's  hand  and  pressed 
it  tightly,  to  communicate  his  convic- 
tions to  him. 

"Well,  my  dear  friend,  there  exist 
in  Nevers  great  basins  decorated  with 
the  same  white  over  blue." 

If  a  book  of  geometry  were  placed  in 
the  hands  of  a  little  peasant  who  had 
spent  his  childhood  in  hunting  for  birds' 
nests,  he  would  not  be  more  taken 
aback  than  was  Dalegre  when  he  heard 
his  friend  speak  of  glaze,  crackled 
enamel^  manganese,  Japanese  influence, 
Franco-Italian  style.  It  was  an  entirely 
new  language,  and  in  spite  of  his  efforts 
to  grasp  the  meaning  of  these  technical 


The  Faience  Violin.  27 


terms,  he  only  succeeded  in  getting  a 
violent  headache,  for  until  this  time  he 
had  given  himself  up  entirely  to  the 
pleasures  of  life,  and  had  prudently 
avoided  all  study  and  all  reflection. 

Gardilanne  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  his  friend  was  not  quick  enough  to 
digest  the  fruits  of  ceramics  all  at  once. 

*'  It  is  not  necessary  for  you  to  know 
all  the  details,"  he  said  to  him ;  "  I  am 
wrong  in  confusing  your  mind  with  them. 
But  look  attentively  at  the  pieces  which 
I  am  going  to  show  you,  and  try  to  re- 
member their  shapes  and  colorings." 

Then  he  brought  out,  one  by  one, 
different  specimens  of  faience,  laying 
stress  on  their  proportions. 

"  A  really  beautiful  pottery,"  he  said, 
"  is  of  an  undeniable  character,  even  to 
the  ignorant,  when  it  assumes  a  certain 
form.      You  will  pick  up  small  pieces 


28  The  Faience  Violin. 


easily  enough,  but  look  out  especially 
for  large  specimens ;  for  there  will  cer- 
tainly be  some  among  them  which  the 
caprice  of  the  firing  has  not  harmed 
with  cracks  or  imperfections,  which  the 
potters  call  die  gauche. 

Dalegre  came  very  near  understand- 
ing this  new  lesson,  promised  to  scour 
the  Nivernian  fields  during  the  autumn 
hunting-season,  and  soon  left  Gardi- 
lanne.  The  collector  was  happy  to  have 
placed  a  watchful  sentinel  in  the  midst 
of  one  of  the  most  important  focuses  of 
antique  ceramics. 


HI. 


A   MONTH 
later  Gardi- 
1  a  n  n  e  received  a 
case    which    he 
opened  in  great  ex- 
citement.       Dalegre 
had     not     forgotten 
the    collector,    and 
had    sent   him   vari- 
ous pieces  of  faience, 
two    of  which   were 
especially    remarka- 
ble   on    account    of 
their  perfect  preservation. 


30  The  Faience  Violin. 


The  same  evening,  Gardilanne,  in  his 
enthusiasm,  paid  Dalegre  by  conferring 
upon  him  the  title  of  connoisseur; 
without  losing  a  moment  he  replied 
with  an  effusive  letter,  every  line  of 
which  teemed  with  unmistakable  ex- 
pressions of  gratitude. 

As  Dalegre  had  handled  these  ob- 
jects, the  head  clerk  felt  certain  their 
form  would  remain  impressed  upon  his 
friend's  mind ;  nevertheless,  Gardilanne 
deemed  it  proper  to  add  to  his  thanks  a 
few  words  of  explanation  about  these 
pieces  of  faience,  their  approximate 
date,  the  marks  painted  on  the  re- 
verse sides,  and  certain  exact  details 
which  ought  to  be  fixed  in  Dalegre's 
thoughts. 

Without  doubt  (wrote  Gardilanne)  the 
amateur  is  born,  but  one  may  become  a  col- 
lector.    The    ewer    you    have    sent    me    would 


The  Faience  Violin.  31 


make  a  Rothschild  jealous ;  the  faience  prayer- 
book  enclosed  in  the  package  is  also  a  unique 
specimen.  It  would  make  me  anxious  to  go  to 
mass  if  I  had  time  for  it.  It  is  a  hand-warmer 
for  the  devout ;  they  formerly  carried  this  large 
book  filled  with  boiling  water,  under  the  arm, 
to  church ;  a  fashion  dating  from  the  sixteenth 
century,  with  this  difference :  that  then  the 
monastic  order,  if  Rabelais  is  to  be  believed, 
employed  it  as  a  stomach-warmer ;  that  is  to 
say,  in  the  capacity  of  a  flask.  I  shall  not  put 
into  this  prayer-book,  my  dear  friend,  either 
good  wine  or  boiling  water.  The  sight  alone 
of  the  enamel  warms  my  old  blood.  Ah ! 
Dal^gre  !  What  a  beautiful  gift  you  have  sent 
me  ! 

I  have  placed  it  beside  a  little  Byzantine 
shrine  as  a  worthy  companion  to  a  mar- 
vellous religious  relic.  While  I  am  speak- 
ing of  this,  I  recommend  your  visiting  the 
vestries  of  the  village  churches ;  the  country 
cur6s  understand  nothing  about  archaeology, 
fortunately !  Look  carefully  in  the  dark  cor- 
ners ;  look  with  my  eyes,  if  you  possibly  can ! 


32  The  Faience  J^iolin. 


Old  statues,  antique  tapestries,  wood  carvings, 
are  thrown  into  out  of  the  way  places.  I  would 
willingly  make  a  present  of  twelve  biblical 
pictures  in  chromo-lithography,  representing  the 
stations  of  the  cross,  to  the  church-wardens 
who  would  consent  to  give  you  these  dilapi- 
dated objects  in  exchange.  Do  not  forget  the 
details  —  twelve  beautiful  colored  pictures,  in 
new  gilt  frames  !  This  gift  will  certainly  be  of 
use  to  you  among  the  priests ;  we  always  have 
need  of  the  clergy,  my  dear  friend. 

If,  by  chance,  there  are  no  curiosities  in  the 
churches,  —  but  I  am  sure  of  the  contrary,  — 
look  around  in  the  hospitals.  There,  my  dear 
Daldgre,  you  will  find  a  plentiful  harvest  to 
gather.  The  Italians  considered  chemistry 
undoubtedly  as  the  queen  of  arts,  to  judge  by 
the  sumptuous  compositions  which  decorate 
their  pharmaceutical  vessels.  I  have  been  told 
that  many  a  sister  superior  in  the  hospitals 
had  her  portrait  on  the  theriac  bottles  ;  I  have 
not  yet  proved  the  fact ;  however,  I  feel  sure  of 
it.  The  French  potters  have  followed  the 
Italian  fashion.     The  artisans  of  Lun6ville,  of 


The  Faience  Violin,  33 


Haguenau,  and  of  Niderviller  have  decorated 
whole  laboratories,  and  I  never  fail,  every 
week,  to  go  for  my  supply  of  magnesia  to  a 
little  apothecary  shop  in  rue  du  Pas-de-la- 
Mule,  which  has  preserved  its  entire  series  of 
pottery  decorated  with  charming  pink  knots 
twining  around  the  necks  of  symbolical  ser- 
pents      Would    you    believe    it,    the  selfish 

creature  who  keeps  this  shop  has  refused 
me,  —  me,  a  faithful  patron  of  the  house, 
one  of  those  pots,  of  which  I  asked  but  one 
specimen.  There  are  people  too  hard-hearted 
to  sympathize  with  the  desires  of  connois- 
seurs ! 

The  sisters  of  charity  are  of  a  kinder 
nature.  Since,  by  their  profession,  they  escape 
the  vanities  of  this  world,  they  know  nothing 
about  the  cursed  tortures  with  which  collectors 
are  affected ;  if  they  were  aware  of  it  they 
would  be  eager  to  alleviate  them.  It  is  better, 
however,  to  gain  admittance  to  their  labora- 
tories casually ;  you  can  be  wounded  in  hunt- 
ing, have  strained  your  back  or  sprained  your 
foot —     If    you    have    grazed    the    skin,    the 


34  The  Faience  Violin. 

doors  of  the  hospital  will  open  to  you  \  a 
backache,  a  sprain,  can  be  summoned  at  will. 
You  ring  at  the  door,  dragging  yourself  along ; 
you  are  taken  to  the  dispensary.  The  sisters 
of    charity    have    every    remedy    to    cure    your 

pains There    you   are    in    the  heart  of  the 

place Attention!     If    there    is    no    faience 

there,  your  sprain  disappears  at  once —  If 
the  dresser  is  filled  with  decorate  bottles,  your 
sprain  grows  worse.  You  establish  yourself 
in  the  dispensary ;  you  are  taken  care  of,  and 
you  carry  away  the  remedy  with  the  bottle 
which  contains  it — 

Such,  my  dear  Dal^gre,  is  the  plan  of  a 
campaign  full  of  strange  experiences —  Ah! 
if  my  office  did  not  keep  me  in  Paris,  I 
would  be  coddled  in  all  the  hospitals  of  Nevers, 
sure  to  carry  away  from  them  a  cart-load  of 
curious  faience. 

I  have  let  myself  run  on,  my  dear ,  friend ; 
but  you  understand  me.  As  proof  of  it  I  have 
the  slender  ewer  outlined  against  my  wall,  and 
the  priceless  faience  prayer-book  with  a  glaze 
as  pure  as  crystal.     Hoping  to  hear  from  you 


The  Fdieme  Violin,  35 


soon,  thank  you.     Thank  you,  hoping  to  hear 
from  you  soon. 

Your  grateful 

Gardilanne. 

Thus  passed  a  year  during  which 
Dalegre,  having  taken  a  fancy  to  this 
new  kind  of  hunting,  sent  four  suc- 
cessive packages  to  Gardilanne,  who 
never  failed  to  show  his  gratitude,  and 
paid  his  friend  in  information  about 
ceramics. 

Singular  experience  in  the  life  of  a 
huntsman  !  In  spite  of  the  enthusiasm 
which  he  put  into  the  pursuit  of  hares 
and  roebucks,  Dalegre  did  not  forget 
Gardilanne,  and  ransacked  every  village 
with  the  daring  of  an  old  soldier  to 
whom  pillage  is  allowable. 

This  was  a  new  occupation  for 
Dalegre.      Naturally    obliging,    he    was 


36  The  Faience  Violin. 


happy  in  the  head  clerk's  Httle  happi- 
nesses, and  exhibited  his  letters  in  the 
town,  thereby  showing,  without  being 
aware  of  it,  the  least  bit  of  vanity ;  for 
Gardilanne,  the  master  in  regard  to 
works  of  art,  treated  him  as  a  devoted 
pupil,  overwhelmed  him  with  compli- 
ments for  his  fortunate  discoveries,  and 
dubbed  him  connoisseur  emeritus. 

There  are  some  innocent  passions 
which  are  like  frail  plants  clinging  to 
an  oak-tree,  surrounding  the  trunk, 
growing,  climbing  out  on  the  branches, 
attracting  numerous  animalculae,  and 
finally  conquering  the  superb  giant- 
king  of  the  forest. 

Dalegre  did  not  notice  at  first  that 
the  pursuit  of  deer  and  small  game 
filled  him  with  less  enthusiasm  than 
formerly,  and  that  his  eyes  were  gradu- 
ally becoming  accustomed    to    impress 


The  Faience  Violiyi.  37 


the  pleasing  colors  of  the  different 
kinds  of  faience  on  his  mind. 

Now  he  took  a  great  interest  in 
glancing  into  every  cottage,  at  every 
dresser,  to  assure  himself  that  some 
important  piece,  perhaps  from  the 
pillage  of  a  castle  during  the  Revolu- 
tion, was  not  hanging  above  the  fire- 
place. Thus  he  had  sent  to  Gardilanne, 
without  taking  any  great  pains,  a  pot 
decorated  with  armorial  bearings,  which 
caused  the  collector  to  write  two  en- 
thusiastic pages,  and  after  that  Dalegre 
devoted  himself  to  searching  for  em- 
blazoned vessels,  all  the  more  eagerly 
because  this  sort  of  bargain  with  the 
peasants  required  a  diplomacy  in  which 
the  townsman  needed  to  display  all  his 
shrewdness. 

Dalegre  was  gradually  attacked  with 
the     Parisian     malady    of    bric-a-brac. 


38 


The  Faience  Violin. 


Gardilanne  had  sown  a  seed  of  his  own 
passion  in  his  friend's  mind,  where 
other  passions  had  held  sway  hitherto. 
The  seed  had  germinated,  was  begin- 
ning to  sprout,  and  putting  forth  large 
leaves  which  would  suffocate  all  neigh- 
boring passions. 


IV. 

At  that  time  there 
were  two  brothers  in 
Nevers  who  collected 
old  things  that  came 
in  their  way  from 
one  quarter  and 
another ;  not  e  x- 
actly  from  the  stand- 
point of  art  (they 
did  not  know  of  the 
word).  They  had  a 
craze  for  accumula- 
tion. 


40  The  Faience  Violin. 


They  had  the  privilege  of  hunting 
about  in  the  houses  of  their  acquaint- 
ances, and  rarely  came  out  of  them 
without  carrying  away  some  old,  di- 
lapidated object. 

The  Messrs.  Matra  resembled  the 
magpie  in  their  passion  for  filling  their 
garret  with  everything  useless:  broken 
screens,  worm-eaten  wainscotings,  old 
snuffers,  incomplete  books,  family  por- 
traits gnawed  by  rats,  and  other  objects 
of  like  value. 

Impelled  by  an  instinct  of  greed,  they 
were  ready  to  pick  up  nutshells  if  they 
had  the  least  idea  that  the  material 
might  afford  patient  beings  a  surface 
for  carving.  No  matter  how  broken, 
injured,  and  mouldy  a  thing  was,  the 
term  antique  in  the  eyes  of  the  Matra 
brothers  commanded  respect,  and  was 
a  reason  for  its  preservation. 


The  Faience  Violin,  41 


The  greater  part  of  their  treasures 
consisted  naturally  in  fragments  of 
broken  Nivernian  faience.  Dalegre 
went  to  visit  them,  and  displayed  so 
varied  a  knowledge  of  the  matter  that 
he  astonished  the  two  brothers,  who 
had  seen  him  only  as  a  man  of  pleasure. 

Dalegre  did  not  conceal  the  source  of 
his  information,  and  ascribed  all  the 
honor  to  Gardilanne,  who,  whenever  he 
sent  him  specimens,  told  him  their 
origin,  and  made  him  notice  the  differ- 
ent details,  which  would  escape  an  igno- 
rant person. 

The  Matra  brothers,  annoyed  by  such 
learning,  made  up  faces. 

*' Am  I  mistaken  in  my  judgment?" 
asked  Dalegre,  who  desired  nothing 
better  than  to  have  his  errors  pointed 
out. 

"No,  but....  " 


42  The  Faience  yiolin. 


*'What?" 

"  For  how  much  do  you  sell  your 
specimens  of  faience  to  Monsieur  Gar- 
dilanne?  " 

''  Sell  them  !  "  exclaimed  Dalegre,  in 
surprise;  *' I  make  him  a  present  of 
them.     Is  he  not  my  friend?" 

"Yes,  but...." 

"  It  gives  pleasure  to  Gardilanne." 

"  Certainly,  you  give  him  pleasure," 
continued  the  brothers;  "there  is  no 
doubt  about  that.  But  do  not  trust 
Parisians ;  they  are  the  most  ungrateful 
people  in  the  world  !  " 

"It  is  evident,"  said  Dalegre,  "that 
you  have  not  read  Gardilanne's  letters." 

"  Your  friend,  the  collector,  pays  you 
in  compliments,  and  laughs  behind  your 
back,  Monsieur  Dalegre;  for  it's  a  new 
thing  to  see  a  man  ruin  his  own  prov- 
ince to  give  pleasure  to  a  Parisian." 


The  Faience  Violin,  43 


"  Ruin  his  own  province  !  "  exclaimed 
Dalegre. 

"  Then  you  are  not  aware  of  what  is 
said  in  the  town,  and  it  is  well  to  inform 
you  of  it,  Monsieur  Dalegre.  Monsieur 
Boscus,  the  honorable  president  of  the 
tribunal,  who  also  collects  fine  pieces 
of  faience,  called  you  a  spoiler,  the 
other  evening,  at  the  prefect's  party." 

**  Spoiler  !  "  replied  Dalegre. 

**  The  term  is  hard,  but  just ;  and, 
as  all  the  blows  of  Judge  Boscus  tell, 
will  it  please  you,  in  a  town  only  too 
ready  to  adopt*  derisive  names,  to  be 
known  in  future  by  the  title  of  Dalegre- 
the-Spoiler?  " 

"What  a  joke!"  replied  Dalegre, 
uneasily,  for  he  was  neighbor  to  an 
old  maid  named  Hermine,  a  sharp- 
tongued  creature,  who  had  made  some 
remarks  concerning  Judge  Boscus,  and 


44  77z^  Faience  Violin. 


was  adorned  by  the  revengeful  magis- 
trate with  the  nickname  of  Vermine. 

No  amiability  on  the  part  of  the  old 
maid  could  remove  this  nickname  from 
her.  Hermine  she  was  born,  Vermine 
she  would  die. 

The  Matra  brothers  saw  that  Dalegre 
was  scratching  his  ear,  where  an  invisi- 
ble flea  had  bitten  it,  and  went  on  : 

'*  Monsieur  Boscus  said  besides :  that 
if  Monsieur  Dalegre  were  collecting  for 
himself,  it  would  be  quite  right ;  but  to 
despoil  his  native  town  of  its  riches  in 
order  to  send  them  away  to  a  Parisian 
who  would  sell  them  is  not  the  part  of 
a  good  citizen." 

"  Gardilanne  sell  his  faience  !   Never  !  " 

The  Parisians  have  no  love  for  keep- 
ing anything.  Monsieur  Boscus  re- 
marked in  regard  to  this  that  they 
change  kings    like  shirts.     People  who 


The  Faience  l^iolin.  45 


show  no  attachment  for  their  sovereigns 
will  not  be  any  more  eager  to  keep 
their  fa'ience. 

This  conversation  with  the  Messrs. 
Matra  struck  home,  and  left  Dalegre 
undecided  what  course  to  pursue  hence- 
forth with  Gardilanne,  to  whom  he  had 
announced  his  intention  of  sending  him 
more  specimens  of  greater  importance 
than  the  preceding  ones. 

Dalegre,  now  familiar  with  the  best 
places,  had  discovered  new  pieces  of 
faience,  and  was  preparing  to  get  pos- 
session of  them  by  all  sorts  of  diplo- 
macy ;  but  as  he  feared  public  opinion, 
which  had  treated  him  until  now  like 
a  spoiled  child,  he  went  to  make  a 
call  on  Judge  Boscus. 

The  magistrate  did  not  speak  either 
of  faience  or  of  Gardilanne  to  the  col- 
lector, and  Dalegre,  as  a  well-bred  man, 


46  77?^  Faience  Violin. 


waited  for  a  more  formal  accusation 
before  defending  himself. 

Out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  he 
searched  for  the  famous  pieces,  with 
which  the  magistrate  had  surrounded 
himself,  hoping  in  some  way  to  mani- 
fest his  regret  for  having  sacrificed  too 
much  to  friendship;  but  the  judge's 
collection  was  not  displayed  on  the 
walls. 

Just  as  he  was  taking  his  leave,  the 
judge  asked: 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  marry,  Mon- 
sieur Dalegre?  " 

*'I  have  not  yet  thought  of  it,  mon- 
sieur." 

*'  Nevertheless,  you  make  havoc  with 
the  hearts  of  our  pretty  young  wo- 
men." 

This  word  havoc  struck  Dalegre. 
He  thought  it  had  a  double  meaning. 


The  Faience  Violin.  47 


**  I  am  really  taken  up  with  faience," 
he  said,  hoping  that  the  bait  would 
make  the  judge  speak. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Judge  Boscus,  in  a 
tone  denoting  a  sort  of  reserve. 

*'  And  I  am  going  to  arrange  my 
house  to  accommodate  my  collection." 

"Very  good,  Monsieur  Dalegre." 

"  I  have  been  rather  idle  in  the  past, 
but  henceforth  I  shall  have  an  object  in 
life." 

"  I  congratulate  you,  monsieur." 

Dalegre  thought  the  judge  polite,  but 
cold. 

"  Monsieur  Boscus  is  too  well-bred  to 
overwhelm  me  with  reproaches,"  he 
thought;  **  at  heart  he  bears  me  ill- 
will." 

The  idea  of  being  exposed  to  the 
hostilities  of  so  important  a  person 
worried    Dalegre   until    he  was  obliged 


48  The  Faience  Violin. 


to  find  some  alleviation.  From  that 
time  he  attended  the  sittings  of  the 
police  court  assiduously  to  attract  the 
notice  of  Judge  Boscus. 

While  the  lawyers  were  pleading, 
Dalegre  pretended  to  be  asleep ;  but 
his  eyes  were  wide  open,  his  face  all 
attention,  his  nostrils  dilated,  when  he 
took  in  like  manna  the  verbose  judge's 
charge. 

It  was  a  painful  comedy  which  the 
experience  of  Hermine-Vermine  seemed 
to  demand  of  him ;  it  was  especially 
irksome  for  a  man  loving  independence, 
the  open  air,  a  man  whose  passion 
for  hunting  had  developed  a  taste  for 
long  walks  in  the  country. 

The  windows  of  the  tribunal  looked 
out  on  an  esplanade  shaded  by  fine 
trees.  Dalegre  stood  sentinel  in  this 
place    for    hours,     hoping   that    Judge 


The  Faience  Violin.  49 


Boscus  would  come  there  to  rest  from 
the  fatigue  of  the  court-room. 

Whenever  Dalegre  met  the  magis- 
trate "■  by  chance  "  he  would  skilfully 
turn  the  conversation  to  the  subject  of 
faience.  Monsieur  Boscus  had  not  re- 
turned Dalegre's  last  call! — a  circum- 
stance which  in  small  towns  is  equiva- 
lent to  a  declaration  of  hostility  and 
gives  rise  to  bitter  enmity. 

Dalegre's  mind  had  never  worked 
so  hard  before.  The  man  felt  that  he 
was  becoming  as  shrewd  as  a  lawyer. 
Perhaps  the  cases  that  he  had  heard 
tried  during  the  past  three  months 
drove  him  into  the  path  of  ambiguity 
where  the  right  sense  of  things  is  lost. 
However,  tired  of  attending  the  weari- 
some sittings  of  the  police  court, 
Dalegre  thought  it  would  be  well  to 
seek    the    bosom    of    nature    for    fresh 


50  The  Faience  Violin. 


vigor,  and  he  set  forth,  happy  to  shake 
off  the  nauseating  odor  of  the  court- 
room from  his  clothes. 

The  thought  of  Gardilanne  suddenly 
coming  into  his  mind  made  him  feel 
happy.  One  day,  while  resting  at  an 
inn,  after  a  long  morning  walk,  Dalegre 
noticed  on  the  mantel-piece  above  the 
fireplace  an  antique  bottle  of  faience, 
of  a  delightful  coloring.  The  blues, 
the  yellows,  and  the  greens  formed  a 
union  of  colors  as  gay  as  the  trio  of  an 
old-fashioned  minuet. 

On  the  belly  of  the  bottle  were  rep- 
resented two  women  of  the  common 
people  who  were  tearing  each  other's 
hair  and  fighting  desperately,  appar- 
ently for  the  pleasure  of  a  huntsman  in 
an  apple-green  coat,  who,  accompanied 
by  his  yellow  dog,  was  watching  the 
scene. 


The  Fdieme  Violin.  51 


Epigraphical  science  had  lent  its  aid 
to  the  ornamentation  of  the  bottle. 
**  Look  out  for  your  wig  !  "  —  '*  There, 
take  that,  you  codfish  !  "  was  the  lovely 
conversation  the  two  gossips  were  in- 
dulging in,  without  paying  any  heed  to 
the  ** There,  there,  be  still,  ladies!" 
uttered  by  the  peaceable  huntsman  in  a 
blue  cap  with  a  visor. 

Under  other  circumstances  Dalegre 
would  have  paid  little  attention  to 
this  painting  of  popular  customs;  but, 
strangely  enough,  Gardilanne's  face, 
outlined  in  his  brain,  gradually  melted 
away,  and  Judge  Boscus  appeared  in 
the  place  of  the  fading  contour  of  the 
Parisian  collector. 

The  sight  of  the  bottle,  suggesting 
the  magistrate  to  his  thoughts,  by  some 
mysterious  connection,  was  almost  as 
real  a  signal  as  the  footprint  of  a  deer 
in  the  moist  earth. 


52  The  Faience  Violin. 


Dalegre  followed  the  track. 

Would  not  the  judge,  the  supreme 
arbiter  in  the  quarrels  of  women  com- 
ing under  his  jurisdiction,  understand 
better  than  any  one  else  the  symbolism 
of  this  bottle,  and  appreciate  the  deli- 
cate homage  of  one  of  his  fellow-citi- 
zens who  should  make  him  a  gift  of  it 
to  add  to  his  collection  of  faience? 

That  same  evening  Dalegre  sent  the 
piece  of  faience  to  the  judge  by  his 
servant,  without  adding  a  word. 

"  I  shall  see  at  the  next  sitting,"  he 
said  to  himself,  "  what  effect  my  present 
has  produced." 

The  next  day  Judge  Boscus  took  his 
seat,  and  passed  a  just  sentence,  but 
one  which  Dalegre  thought  severe. 
The  gift  of  the  bottle  did  not  seem  to 
have  humanized  the  magistrate. 

Most  certainly  the  judge  must  have 


The  Faience  Violin,  53 


noticed  Dalegre  sitting  in  one  of  the 
seats  most  plainly  visible  to  the  judge's 
bench ;  no  look  of  recognition  gave 
evidence  that  Monsieur  Boscus  was 
grateful  for  the  gift  made  to  justice  in 
the  person  of  its  chief. 

Dalegre  felt  uneasy,  not  knowing 
how  to  fasten  the  link  in  the  broken 
chain  of  his  relations  with  the  judge. 

Fortunately,  some  time  afterwards, 
one  of  his  farmers,  who  was  behind- 
hand in  his  payments,  found  him  in  a 
state  of  irritation  which  makes  the  best 
natures  bitter.  Dalegre  flew  into  a  pas- 
sion. The  peasant  treated  his  landlord 
with  so  little  respect  that  Dalegre 
brought  action  against  him.  This  cir- 
cumstance very  naturally  brought  him 
into  relations  with  the  judge. 

Dalegre  went  to  see  him,  and  ex- 
cused himself  for  having  sent  a  remem- 


54  The  Faience  Violin. 


brance  to  the  chief  magistrate,  called  to 
become  supreme  arbiter  in  his  cause. 

*'  Are  you  the  one,"  asked  the  judge, 
"who  sent  me  that  bottle?  What  was 
your  object?  " 

Dalegre  said  that  he  had  wished  to 
add  to  the  collection  of  a  man  for  whom 
he  felt  unusual  esteem. 

"  But  I  have  no  collection !  "  ex- 
claimed Monsieur  Boscus. 

Dalegre  then  became  aware  that  he 
was  the  victim  of  the  Matra  brothers, 
who  had  set  a  trap  to  prevent  him  in 
future  from  collecting  curios  and  com- 
ing into  competition  with  them. 

But  it  was  difficult  to  oppose  this 
absorbing  passion.  Dalegre,  having  be- 
come an  infatuated  collector,  now  heard 
a  voice  constantly  commanding  him 
to  sacrifice  Gardilanne.  The  Parisian 
appeared    in    a    sort    of   magic    mirror, 


The  Faience  Violin.  55 


magnifying    the    evil    instincts    of   the 
people  of  the  capital. 

Then  again,  Dalegre  felt  himself 
wrapped  in  a  cloud  of  vanity.  His 
knowledge,  if  turned  to  account  by 
making  a  collection,  would  attract 
tourists,  and,  without  doubt,  win  him  the 
honor  of  mention  in  the  year-book  of 
the  department.  Men  have  at  their 
command  a  thousand  plausible  reasons 
for  coloring  their  passions,  taking  back 
a  promise,  breaking  a  compact,  and 
sacrificing  their  best  friends. 


56 


The  Faience  Violin, 


V. 


Three     months 
passed,  during   which 
Gardilanne,    surprised 
at    not  receiving    any 
more  specimens  from 
Dalegre,   wrote    letter 
after  letter   to    arouse 
his    friend's     enthusi- 
asm.    Was  the  coun- 
try entirely  exhausted  ? 
This      last      reason 
made  a  great  impres- 
sion  on  Dalegre,   and 
impelled    him    to 
employ  a  decep- 
t  i  o  n       common 


among  collectors. 


The  Faience  Violin.  57 


Not  only  was  the  faience  not  ex- 
hausted, but,  on  the  contrary,  it  seemed 
to  be  coming  out  of  the  earth  in  pro- 
fusion. 

Dalegre  had  sounded  the  alarm  in 
every  direction,  so  that  never  a  day 
passed  without  some  peasant  bringing 
a  rare  specimen,  which  the  new  col- 
lector paid  generously  for,  with  the 
idea,  familiar  to  certain  amateurs,  of 
putting  his  money  at  large  interest  in 
this  way. 

Among  the  number  were  some  un- 
important pieces  of  faience,  of  cheap, 
popular  pottery.  Dalegre  sorted  them, 
divided  them  into  two  lots,  and  sent  the 
worst  to  Gardilanne. 

Gardilanne  unnailed  the  box  with 
feverish  impatience,  took  infinite  pre- 
caution in  unpacking  the  things,  and 
made   a   wry  face    when    he    saw    such 


58  The  Faience  Violin. 


miserable  trash.  It  was  almost  like 
coarse  boiled  beef  to  this  epicure  who 
was  anticipating  the  pleasure  of  tasting 
dainty  delicacies.  However,  it  was 
necessary  to  put  a  good  face  on  the 
matter,  and  not  be  fastidious. 

In  thanking  his  friend  for  having 
thought  of  him,  Gardilanne  could  not 
refrain  from  hinting  at  his  disappoint- 
ment; however,  he  still  hoped  that 
chance  would  lead  him,  in  the  future, 
to  discover  some  rare  curiosity,  and  he 
begged  Dalegre  not  to  forget  him, 
whenever  it  should  happen. 

"  Monsieur  Sauvageot  informs  me," 
added  Gardilanne,  *'  of  the  existence  of 
a  faience  violin  which  an  old  man 
claims  to  have  seen  formerly  in  Nevers. 
It  would  be  a  unique  specimen  of  ce- 
ramic art.  Have  you  ever  heard  of  this 
singular  thing?     Bestir  yourself,  for  the 


The  Faience  Violin,  59 


love  of  art,  I  beseech  you  !  I  admit 
that  the  revelation  of  a  fa'ience  violin 
has  prevented  me  from  sleeping.  I 
heard  Paganini  draw  tones  from  it  as 
clear  as  the  glaze  itself.  Speak  about 
the  faience  violin  everywhere,  my  dear 
friend ;  see  the  old  people  of  the  coun- 
try ;  awaken  their  memory.  If  this 
marvellous  instrument  exists,  you  ought 
to  find  it.     You  will  find  it." 

**  I  will  play  you  a  tune  on  the 
faience  violin  !  "  exclaimed  Dalegre,  who 
was  growing  more  treacherous  than 
lago. 

And  he  replied  at  once  with  a  hypo- 
critical letter,  in  which  he  deplored  the 
worthlessness  of  the  last  specimens 
he  had  sent,  and  said  that  he  only 
wished  to  show  some  proof  of  his  good- 
will. 

As  to  the  faience  violin,  Dalegre  had 


6o  The  Faience  Violin. 


never  heard  of  it;  but  he  had  been 
told  in  the  town  that  there  existed  at 
an  amateur's  house  some  plates  be- 
longing to  the  end  of  the  seventeenth 
century  on  which  was  written,  in  the 
style  of  pastoral  love  songs,  a  sort  of 
ballad. 

Unfortunately,  this  collector,  who 
was  a  surly  fellow,  would  allow  nobody 
to  enter  his  house. 

Dalegre  spoke  knowingly  about  these 
plates,  for  he  had  recently  obtained  two 
of  them,  one  of  which  was  devoted  to 
a  drinking  song,  the  other  to  a  pastoral 
with  music  by  Mondonville. 

As  he  looked  at  them,  the  Nivernian 
laughed  slyly  at  the  good  trick  he  had 
played  on  Gardilanne ;  the  pupil  was 
all  the  more  proud  because  he  had 
deceived  his  master. 

Dalegre    rubbed     his    hands    as    he 


The  Faience  Violin,  6i 


walked  around  his  room,  which  was 
growing  richer  every  day  in  rare  faience, 
and  he  considered  himself  a  simple  fel- 
low for  having  sent  so  much  away  to 
Paris ;  but  all  knowledge  is  paid  for 
with  sacrifice. 

Gardilanne  had  compelled  him  to 
accomplish  this  education,  and  Dalegre 
would  not  have  understood  the  charm 
of  these  pieces  if  he  had  not  searched 
for  them,  bargained  for  them,  and 
handled  them. 

However,  he  was  now  very  anxious  to 
obtain  the  faience  violin,  the  idea  of 
which  had  been  communicated  to  him 
by  Gardilanne ;  it  was  rare  for  a  day 
to  pass  without  his  asking  the  people 
of  Nevers  and  the  neighboring  country 
if  they  had  ever  had  any  knowledge  of 
so  rare  an  instrument. 


62  The  Faience  Violin. 

Some  people  regarded  Dalegre  as  a 
mischievous  wag;  others  pitied  him  for 
feeding  on  such  fooHsh  fancies. 

Dalegre  threw  himself  into  the  craze 
for  collecting  with  the  ardor  of  a  man 
of  thirty-five,  seizing  hold  of  a  reality, 
after  having  exhausted  artificial  pleas- 
ures. So  the  Nivernian,  never  minding 
wheh  he  met  with  ill  success,  patiently 
pursued  his  researches,  kept  up  his 
incessant  inquiries,  and  cared  nothing 
for  the  opinion  people  expressed  about 
him. 

Finally  he  came  across  one  of  the 
oldest  patoiiilloiix  in  the  country,  a 
man  who  had  long  followed  the  pro- 
fession of  a  faience  potter. 

*'  Although  I  have  no  knowledge  of  a 
faience  violin,"  said  the  old  potter,  "  it 
is  not  impossible  that  such  a  thing  may 
exist." 


77?^  Faience  Violin,  63 


The  good  man  looked  thoughtful. 

"  It  was  probably  a  show-piece  made 
by  clever  workmen  to  prove  their 
skill." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Dalegre,  snapping  at 
the  bait. 

**  But  you  will  be  lucky,  monsieur,  if 
you  find  such  a  piece." 

Dalegre  was  carried  away  by  the 
information.  At  last  he  had  put  his 
hand  on  a  person  who  did  not  wholly 
doubt  the  existence  of  the  faience 
violin. 

To  relieve  his  mind,  he  told  Gardi- 
lanne  the  result  of  his  conversation  with 
the  old  workman.  Continuing  his 
machiavellian  policy,  Dalegre  sent  the 
chief  clerk  a  second  lot  of  common- 
place pottery,  cracked  and  mended,  in 
short,  only  broken  fragments,  for  he  felt 


64 


The  hdience  Violin. 


sure  that  this  miserable  earthenware 
would  prevent  his  friend  henceforth 
from  persisting  in  his  unreasonable 
demands. 


VI 


Although  he   was   not  hard- 
hearted, Dalegre  laughed   in    his 
sleeve  to    think    of  Gardilanne's 
discomfiture    on    opening     the 
box;   for  the  craze  for  collect- 
ing makes  people  selfish,  and 
Dalegre's    happy     disposi- 
tion   was    gradually    be- 
coming tinged   with  this 


66  The  Faience  Violin. 


A  week  later,  Dalegre  began  to  have 
some  misgivings  because  he  received 
no  reply  from  Gardilanne,  who  was 
usually  so  polite.  Had  the  chief  clerk 
seen  in  it  the  trick  of  a  rival?  Was  he 
not  hurt  by  the  proceeding? 

Sending  these  wretched  fragments 
fastened  together  with  coarse  wire,  had 
possibly  caused  Dalegre  to  lose  one  of 
those  old  friendships  which,  in  spite 
of  everything,  it  pained  him  to  break. 
Whatever  the  Nivernian  did  to  forget 
this  rupture,  his  conscience  was  bur- 
dened with  remorse.  However,  he  went 
on  with  his  investigations  and  scoured 
the  country  round,  deserving  hence- 
forth the  title  of  Dalegre-aux-Faiences, 
which  the  people  of  the  town  applied 
to  him  as  much  out  of  mischief  as  to 
distinguish  him  from  the  other  Dalegres 
in  the  region. 


The  Faience  Violin,  67 


One  evening,  on  his  return  from  one 
of  his  expeditions,  his  bag  filled  with 
faience,  old  Marguerite,  his  maid,  said : 

"  Monsieur,  I  forgot  to  give  you  a 
letter  which  came  this  morning." 

*'  In  a  moment,"  replied  Dalegre, 
very  busy  arranging  on  an  etagere  the 
specimens  he  had  brought  home,  so 
that  he  might  have  them  before  his 
eyes  while  he  was  at  supper. 

"Very  good!"  he  exclaimed,  after 
having  disposed  his  treasures  against 
the  wall ;   "  very  good  !  " 

Standing  back  to  enjoy  the  effect 
produced  by  the  specimens  of  faience, 
he  said : 

**  Marguerite,  what  do  you  think  of 
these  fine  pieces?" 

"Monsieur,  I  don't  know  anything 
about  them." 

**  You   are   jealous,   Marguerite,    you 


68  The  Faience  Violin. 


would  like  to  have  plates  like  these  in 
your  kitchen." 

The  old  woman  shrugged  her  shoul- 
ders and  smiled. 

"  How  can  you  spend  your  money 
for  such  things?  " 

'*  Stupid  !  " 

"Monsieur  knows  very  well  that  I 
am  not  educated." 

Dalegre  walked  up  and  down  the 
room,  while  the  servant  was  putting 
the  supper  on  the  table. 

"  The  idea  of  calling  noble  works  of 
art  things/  " 

"What  shall  I  say,  then,  monsieur? 
My  people  prefer  the  white  porcelain." 

"  Your  peasants  are  ignoramuses  ; 
but  they  made  me  pay  dear  for  their 
faience  to-day,  all  the  same." 

While  Dalegre  was  eating  with  a 
lively    appetite,  sharpened    as    well   by 


The  Faience  Violin.  69 


his  walk  in  the  country  as  by  the  joy  he 
felt  at  his  discoveries,  Marguerite  said : 

"And  the  letter,  monsieur?" 

"  Really,  I  forgot  all  about  it ;  give 
it  to  me.  At  last  Gardilanne  sees  fit  to 
answer  me.  He  will  reproach  me,  I  am 
sure." 

Dalegre  turned  the  letter  over  in  his 
hands  without  opening  it,  looking  at 
the  writing  and  the  address  as  though 
the  characters  ought  to  reveal  the 
contents. 

"  I  shall  find  reproaches  here,"  said 
he,  ''which  will  spoil  my  supper. 
Surely,  Gardilanne  will  overwhelm  me 
with  his  scorn." 

"  Well,  monsieur,  you  don't  read 
Monsieur  Gardilanne's  letter,"  said  the 
old  servant,  who  had  served  her  master 
since  he  was  a  child,  and,  therefore, 
liked  to  concern  herself  in  his  affairs. 


JO  The  Faience  Violin. 


''  I  shall  read  it  after  a  little,  Margue- 
rite;   I  am  afraid..." 

"  That  good  Monsieur  Gardilanne 
has  met  with  some  misfortune?" 

'' Why  can't  you  read,  Marguerite?" 
said  Dalegre,  eating  a  piece  of  pie. 

''That  is  my  parents'  fault,  monsieur; 
I  am  ashamed  of  it  every  day." 

"  You  should  have  read  the  letter 
first." 

"Me!"  exclaimed  Marguerite, 
touched  by  this  proof  of  confidence. 

"  And  if  it  contained  anything  to 
give  me  pain,  you  would  tell  me  cau- 
tiously." 

"  Monsieur  makes  me  out  of  pa- 
tience ;  in  his  place  I  should  decide  at 
once.  I  should  want  to  know  immedi- 
ately whether  there  was  good  news  or 
bad  in  it.  Come,  monsieur,  read  it 
quickly,"  said   Marguerite,  who,  going 


The  Faience  Violin,  71 


beyond  her  privileges,  had  torn  open 
the  envelope,  and  was  holding  out  the 
letter  to  her  master. 

With  his  fork  in  one  hand,  and  the 
letter  in  the  other,  Dalegre  swallowed 
an  enormous  piece  of  pie,  while  his  eyes 
vaguely  followed  the  written  characters. 

"  Oh  dear  !  "  he  exclaimed,  suddenly, 
uttering  a  loud  cry,  and  dropping  his 
fork. 

''What  is  the  matter,  monsieur?" 

Dalegre  rose  from  the  table. 

"■  Marguerite,  I  am  lost!  " 

He  ran  to  the  sideboard  and  took 
down  the  pieces  of  faience  in  a  hurry. 

**  Quick,  Marguerite,  hide  that !  " 

At  the  same  time  he  pulled  out  the 
nails,  which  served  to  hold  the  objects 
in  place. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  exclaimed  Da- 
legre ;  "  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 


'ji  The  Faience  Violin, 


He  took  a  candle  and  climbed  the 
stairs,  saying,  **  The  blue-room  is  full 
of  them." 

The  old  servant  followed  him  quite 
dumbfounded. 

They  both  went  into  the  room.  Da- 
legre  drew  a  deep  sigh. 

*'  I  can  never  conceal  the  traces  of 
these  specimens,  Marguerite.  What 
time  is  it?  " 

"  The  cuckoo-clock  in  the  kitchen 
has  just  struck  ten,  monsieur." 

*'  It  is  impossible,  it  cannot  be 
thought  of!  "  exclaimed  Dalegre,  almost 
beside  himself,  running  from  the  blue- 
room  to  the  parlor,  from  the  parlor  to 
his  own  room,  looking  everywhere  in 
bewilderment. 

**  But,  monsieur, "...said  the  old 
woman,  without  being  able  to  get  any 
explanation. 


The  Faience  Violin,  73 


Suddenly  Dalegre  stopped. 

"  Marguerite,  Gardilanne  is  coming 
to  Nevers  !  " 

**  Is  that  what  puts  you  in  such  a 
flurry?  Oh,  how  glad  I  shall  be  to  see 
your  friend  !  " 

"I  am  lost,  Marguerite !  " 

"  One  would  suppose  that  you  had 
committed  some  crime." 

"  Why  didn't  you  give  me  that  letter 
this  morning?"  asked  Dalegre. 

•*  Monsieur  had  gone  to  look  for 
relics." 

**  Oh,  this  faience  !  this  faience  !  "  ex- 
claimed Dalegre  ;  "  Gardilanne  mustn't 
have  a  suspicion  of  it ;  he  would  never 
forgive  me." 

"Why  do  you  want  to  hide  them 
from  your  friend?"   asked  Marguerite. 

**  I  cannot  explain  it  to  you,"  replied 
Dalegre    with    irritation.     '*  Gardilanne 


74  The  Faience  Violin. 


will  be  here  before  we  know  it.... 
Everything    must   be    taken   away." 

"All  the  pots?  There  are  enough 
to  fill  two  wagons." 

"Don't  let  a  trace  of  them  be  left 
when  Gardilanne  arrives." 

"  But,  monsieur,  the  stage  will  be 
here  in  an  hour." 

"  Make  haste,  then." 

"  Lord !  If  I  only  knew  where  to 
begin  !  "  sighed  Marguerite. 

"  Take  away  everything  out  of 
the  blue-room,  where  Gardilanne  will 
sleep;  be  quick  about  it,  for  we  haven't 
a  moment  to  lose." 

"  Where  shall  I  put  the  faience?  " 

"  Wherever  you  like." 

Meanwhile,  Dalegre,  recovering  his 
presence  of  mind,  was  putting  the  blue- 
room  in  order,  and  told  his  servant  to 
carry  the  faience  to  the  drawing-room  ; 


The  Faience  Violin,  75 

at  any  rate,  Gardilanne  would  not  need 
to  go  in  there  the  evening  that  he  ar- 
rived, nor  into  any  of  the  other  rooms, 
where  he  had  curios  arranged  along 
the  walls. 


That  night,  while  Gardilanne,  wearied 
by  the  journey,  should  be  fast  asleep, 
Dalegre  would  help  Marguerite  to  ar- 
range all  his  treasures  in  the  cellar,  and 
he  made  her  swear,  under  penalty  of 
being  dismissed  immediately,  not  to 
reveal  the  secret  to  Gardilanne„ 


76  The  Faience  Violin. 


"  Surely,  monsieur,  it  will  make  me 
ill/'  exclaimed  the  old  servant,  who 
really,  since  the  invasion  of  the  faience, 
felt  the  care  almost  too  much  for  her. 


VII. 

Just  on  the 
hour,  the  bell 
rang,  and  Gar- 
dilanne  threw 
his  arms  around 
Dalegre's  neck, 
and  the  latter, 
ashamed  to  give 
his  friend  a 
Judas'  kiss,  of- 
fered his  cheek 
to  him. 

**  Y  o  u     are 
surprised  to  see 
me,  are  you  not,  my  dear  friend?" 


.-•:/>'^<< 


^.<^. 

f'.^^^ 


7^f 


78  The  Faience  Violin, 


"  I  have  only  just  received  your  let- 
ter. Wouldn't  you  like  some  sup- 
per?" 

"  I  should  be  very  glad  to  have  a  bit 
of  something  to  eat." 

While  at  supper  Gardilanne  said : 

"  At  last  I  have  been  allowed  a  vaca- 
tion of  six  weeks  each  year,  thanks  to 
my  collection,  which  my  minister  has 
been  to  see.  During  the  vacation  he 
has  commissioned  me  to  visit  the  differ- 
ent countries  which  have  been  the  seat 
of  artistic  industries.  I  shall  begin  with 
Nevers,  and,  first  of  all,  I  want  to  thank 
you,  my  dear  friend,  for  the  treasures 
you  have  added  to  my  "  cabinet." 

"  The  last  pieces  I  sent  were  rather 
poor,"  stammered  Dalegre,  only  anx- 
ious to  justify  himself. 

"  On  the  contrary,  they  were  very 
important,  and    that  is    what    brought 


The  Faience  Fiolin.  79 


me  to  see  you.  You  sent  me  a  jewel 
without  knowing  it." 

"  A  jewel !  "  said  Dalegre  uneasily. 

'*  A  marvellous  relic,  dated  and 
signed  by  an  Italian,  undoubtedly  the 
chief  of  the  workmen  attracted  here  by 
the  Duke  of  Nevers." 

"  Ah  !  "  replied  Dalegre  anxiously. 

"  A  wonderful  discovery  !  Give  me 
your  hand  and  let  me  press  it  again." 

Dalegre  hardly  dared  to  place  his 
damp  hand  in  Gardilanne's. 

"  This  fragment,  the  importance  ot 
which  you  couldn't  have  imagined, 
made  a  sensation  among  the  amateurs 
in  Paris....  It  is  evidently  the  finest 
specimen  in  my  collection....  If  the  rest 
of  the  pieces  were  of  no  consequence, 
such  a  one  places  you  henceforth 
among  people  of    discrimination." 

*'  Confound  discrimination  !  "  thought 
Dalegre. 


8o  The  Faience  Violin, 


•'  But  I  am  not  ungrateful,  and  when 
you  come  to  Paris  you  will  see  under- 
neath this  delightful  specimen  a  little 
placard  bearing  this  inscription  :  "  Pre- 
sented by  my  excellent  friend,  Dalegre, 
of  Nevers." 

"  How  wise  I  was  !  "  thought  Dalegre, 
"  to  put  my  faience  out  of  the  sight  of 
this  monopolist." 

After  supper  Gardilanne  said  : 

"  To-morrow  we  will  search  the 
town." 

Dalegre  shuddered. 

**  There  is  nothing  to  be  found  in 
Nevers,"  he  said. 

''  How  about  the  merchants?  " 

**  With  the  exception  of  the  hatter, 
Bara,  who  adds  to  his  own  trade  a  few 
worthless  relics,  we  have  no  real  curi- 
osity shop." 

"  And  the  amateurs?  " 


The  Faience  Violin.  8i 


*•  We  have  no  collectors  here." 

"  I  believe,  in  one  of  your  letters, 
you  mentioned  a  person  who  possessed 
some  musical  plates." 

'*  Yes....  I  had  forgotten....  That 
amateur  is  dead,"  said  Dalegre,  enter- 
ing the  path  of  untruthfulness. 

"  Good  !  "  exclaimed  Gardilanne  ; 
"then  his  collection  will  be   for  sale." 

"  I  do  not  think  so....  The  collection 
has  naturally  fallen  to  his  heirs." 

"  They  will  be  glad  to  dispose  of 
them....      Who  are  the  heirs?" 

Dalegre  would  have  found  an  alibi 
to  avert  a  charge  of  murder  hanging 
over  his  head,  if  he  had  not  been  a 
prey  to  a  livelier  anxiety." 

"  I  do  not  know  the  heirs,"  he  said ; 
"  I  only  know  that  they  have  taken 
everything  away." 

"  Couldn't  we  obtain  their  address?... 


82  The  Faience  Violin. 


Isn't  there  some  lawyer  in  charge  of 
their  interests?  " 

"  Quite  likely ;  but  as  they  did  not 
belong  to  this  part  of  the  country,  they 
went  away  as  soon  as  their  affairs  were 
settled....  I  have  been  told  that  they 
live  in  a  small  village  among  the 
Pyrenees." 

'*  And  you  let  these  ignorant  moun- 
taineers go  away  with  their  precious 
faience  !  What  a  mistake  !  If  you  had 
only  been  a  collector !  " 

Dalegre  drew  a  long  breath.  His 
friend  had  not  suspected  him  in  the 
least. 

*'  To-morrow,"  continued  Gardilanne, 
"  perhaps  you  will  be  able  to  spare  a 
few  moments  to  take  me  over  the 
museum." 

''  Pooh  !      It's  a  very  poor  museum." 

"  I  have  heard  that  it  was  curious." 


77?^  Faience  Violin,  83 


**  You  Parisians  are  so  enthusiastic. 
But  you  must  be  tired." 

**  I  could  talk  about  faience  all 
night." 

**  I  am  going  to  take  you  to  your 
room,"  said  Dalegre,  rising,  to  give  his 
friend  a  hint  to  go  to  bed. 

When  they  reached  the  blue-room, 
Dalegre  said : 

"  Good-night,  my  dear  friend.  Sleep 
well." 

*'  So  I  am  really  in  Nevers !  "  ex- 
claimed Gardilanne,  throwing  himself 
into  an  easy-chair. 

**  Good-night." 

"  Sit  down  a  moment....  Can  you  see 
the  ducal  palace  from  here?"  asked 
Gardilanne. 

"  No,  my  house  is  at  the  other  end 
of  the  town." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  that.     I  should  have 


84  The  Fdiefice  Violin. 


liked  when  I  opened  the  window  in 
the  morning,  to  let  my  first  thought  be 
directed  to  the  home  of  the  Gonzagues, 
who  endowed  France  with  the  wonder- 
ful industry  of  fa'ience....  Your  maid 
seems  like  a  worthy  person...." 

Dalegre  tried  to  make  out  what  con- 
nection there  could  be  between  the 
Duke  of  Nevers  and  old   Marguerite. 

"  I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  her," 
said  Dalegre. 

*'  Does  Marguerite  belong  to  this 
place?"  continued  Gardilanne. 

"She  was  born  at  Ligny-le-Chatel." 

*'  Oh,  my  friend,  how  fortunate  it  is 
that  I  decided  to  come  here !  To  find, 
the  very  first  thing  after  my  arrival, 
some  one  born  at  Ligny-le-Chatel.... 
The  place  is  marked  on  my  map....  I 
want  to  show  it  to  you." 

Although  Dalegre  assured    him  that 


The  Faience  Violin,  85 


it  was  very  late,  Gardilanne  opened  his 
trunk,  and  took  out  a  map,  which  he 
spread  out  on  the  table. 

**  All  the  red  points  indicate  the  seats 
of  ceramic  industries....  There  is  Ligny- 
le-Chatel.  In  1760  a  manufactory  of 
faience  was  established  there.  Surely 
curious  specimens  ought  to  be  found 
in  the  houses  in  the  vicinity....  If  you 
would  call  Marguerite  !  " 

**  Marguerite  has  gone  to  bed." 
''  You  think  of  nothing  but  sleeping 
in  this  country,"  said  Gardilanne,  rising 
from  the  easy-chair. 

Surveying  the  room,  he  added : 
"  To-morrow  send   Marguerite  to  me 
as    early    as    possible....  I    have    some- 
thing to  say  to  her...." 

''  She  will  not  be  able  to  answer 
you,"  said  Dalegre,  shivering  with  un- 
easiness.... **  Did  you  not  notice  that 
Marguerite  is  deaf?  " 


86  The  Faience  Violin. 


"Deaf!  Her  face  does  not  indicate 
such  an  infirmity...." 

"  I  should  not  keep  the  poor  woman 
if  I  were  not  guided  by  a  feehng  of 
humanity....  Besides,"  added  Dalegre, 
"  my  maid  has  a  Hmited  capacity,  and 
knows  nothing  about  ceramics....  If 
you  should  see  the  scorn  with  which 
Marguerite  looks  at  the  faience  I 
bring  home....  Oh !  "  Dalegre  ex- 
claimed. 

He  had  betrayed  his  secret.  Gardi- 
lanne  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  I  mean  the  faience  that  I  bring 
home  for  you,"  said  Dalegre,  with  his 
mouth  twisted  out  of  shape  by  the 
falsehood. 

"  This  will  not  prevent  me  from  re- 
turning to  Paris  by  way  of  Ligny-le- 
Chatel." 

*'  My  dear  friend,  for  the    last  time, 


The  Faience  Violin,  87 


good-night,"  said  Dalegre,  opening  the 
door. 

He  remained  for  a  moment  at  the 
head  of  the  stair,  listening  to  Gardi- 
lanne  as  he  walked  about  the  room,  and 
did  not  go  away  until  the  thread  of 
light  ceased  to  come  from  under  the 
troublesome  guest's  door. 

However,  there  was  danger  in  the  air. 
He  must  lay  out  a  line  of  action. 

**  To-morrow  Gardilanne  will  call 
you,  as  soon  as  it  is  light,"  said  Dalegre 
to  his  servant. 

''  What  will  monsieur's  friend  take  in 
the  morning?  " 

•'  He  will  take  the  air." 

"  What,  not  even  a  cup  of  coffee?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  about  that  by  and 
by....  I  want  you  to  make  no  reply 
to  Gardilanne  when  he  calls  you...." 

The  old  servant  listened  in  amazement. 


88  The  Faience  Violin, 


"  If  Gardilanne  makes  signs  to  you, 
you  are  to  do  whatever  he  wishes.  If 
he  speaks,  you  will  not  hear  him." 

**  It  would  be  better  to  be  deaf,  mon- 
sieur." 

*'  That  is  what  you  are,  y  ou  are 
deaf!  " 

Marguerite  looked  at  her  master  as 
wildly  as  some  unfortunate  who  sees  a 
sorcerer  casting  a  spell  over  him.  She 
carried  her  hand  instinctively  to  her  ears. 

"■  You  love  to  talk,  I  know....  Well, 
in  the  evening  we  will  talk  as  much  as 
you  please,  but  only  in  the  evening.... 
In  the  daytime,  I  intrust  you  with  the 
oversight  of  Gardilanne....  Pay  close 
attention  to  his  actions,  his  gestures, 
his  hands,  his  pockets....  But  do  not 
speak,  pretend  to  be  indifferent.... 
Don't  let  Gardilanne  suspect  that  he  is 
noticed." 


The  Faience  yiolin.  89 


Never  before  had  so  many  interroga- 
tion-points entered  the  old  servant's 
understanding. 

Dalegre  was  delighted  with  her 
stupefaction,  and  took  pleasure  in  in- 
creasing it. 

"  A  creature,"  he  said,  "  with  designs 
on  my  peace  of  mind,  on  my  property ! 
And  pays  for  his  hospitality  by  dis- 
turbing my  home  where  I  live  so 
quietly  with  my  good  housekeeper ! 
A  miserly  character  who  knows  how  to 
plunder  all  the  people  of  Nevers  and 
Burgundy  to  his  own  advantage.... 
But  we  are  all  right,  aren't  we,  Mar- 
guerite? " 

The  old  servant  was  ready  to  curse 
Gardilanne. 

"  To-morrow,  child,"  said  Dalegre, 
flattering  Marguerite,  ''  wake  with 
the  idea  that  you  are   stone  deaf;    on 


90  The  Faience  Violin. 


this  depends  the  future  welfare  of  your 
master." 

Then  Dalegre  motioned  to  the 
woman  to  follow  him  into  the  drawing- 
room,  where  the  faience,  taken  so  hur- 
riedly from  the  dining-room,  had  been 
piled  up.  Each  one  taking  a  large 
basket,  filled  it  with  the  principal  pieces, 
\Yhich  they  busied  themselves  with  car- 
rying into  the  cellar,  out  of  the  sight 
of  Gardilanne's  eyes. 

"  Above  all,  do  n't  let  him  suspect 
anything !  "  exclaimed  Dalegre  in  a  low 
voice. 

The  master  and  his  servant,  taking 
a  thousand  precautions,  went  up  and 
down  the  stairs  like  thieves  entering  a 
house  by  night. 

A  peculiar  nervous  tension  had 
seized  Dalegre,  and,  walking  cautiously 
on   tip-toe,   he   felt    his    muscles  revolt 


The  Faience  Violin.  91 


against  the  movements  of  their  master, 
who  till  then  had  never  made  them  the 
accomplices  of  such  stratagems;  they 
seemed  to  refuse  their  usual  coopera- 
tion, and  his  limbs  become  soft  and 
flabby. 

Dalegre,  with  a  guilty  conscience, 
feared  that  Providence  would  punish 
him  by  making  him  roll  from  the  top 
of  the  stairs  to  the  bottom  with  the 
large  pieces  which  he  had  already 
taken  so  much  trouble  to  keep  from 
"breaking  while  on  the  road ;  but  he 
could  not  smother  that  particular  click- 
ing of  the  faience,  which  would  have 
wakened  Gardilanne  quicker  than  a 
thunder-clap,  for  collectors,  like  misers, 
are  light  sleepers. 

Then  Dalegre  went  to  the  blue- room 
and  held  his  ear  to  the  door,  listening 
to   see  whether   his    friend  was   asleep, 


92  The  Faience  Violin. 


feeling  ashamed  Oif  the  sight  he  pre- 
sented to  old  Marguerite,  who,  till  now, 
had  always  considered  her  master  as 
the  most  loyal  of  men. 

The  removal  of  the  fa'ience  lasted  till 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

Dalegre  threw  himself  on  his  bed, 
exhausted  by  emotions  which  he  had 
never  experienced  before. 

The  love  of  possession  had  awak- 
ened in  him  since  Gardilanne's  arrival. 

The  countryman  felt  both  wounded 
in  his  vanity  and  also  devoured  by 
jealousy;  jealous  of  Gardilanne's  riches, 
and  ashamed  of  having  sent  him, 
among  worthless  fragments,  a  precious 
specimen  of  faience,  over  which  his 
friend  made  so  much  ado,  and  which 
he  himself  had  not  understood. 

Numberless  questions  rushed  into  his 
mind. 


The  Faience  Violin.  93 


How  long  a  visit  did  Gardilanne 
intend  to  make  in  Nevers? 

What  a  series  of  critical  situations  he 
would  put  Dalegre  into  ! 

Any  turn  that  Gardilanne  might 
make  in  the  town  was  likely  to  divulge 


the  truth  to  Gardilanne,  that  is,  that 
Dalegre  possessed  an  important  collec- 
tion. So  he  must  follow  every  step  of 
his  guest,  never  leave  him  any  more 
than  his  shadow,  avert  a  thousand  in- 
discreet revelations,  in  order  to  hide  his 
secret. 


94  The  Faience  Violin. 


The  more  Dalegre  thought  about 
these  schemes,  the  more  he  feared  that 
his  passion  for  fa'ience  would  be  dis- 
covered. If  Gardilanne  should  ask  to 
see  his  specimens,  was  it  possible  for 
him  to  refuse  a  few  curious  pieces? 


VIII. 

His  cares  and  anxi- 
eties preyed  upon  the 
Nivernian's     mind     to 
such  an  extent,  that  he 
grew  a  year  older  that 
night.     If  Dalegre  had 
at  times  tasted  some 
pleasure     in    the 
midst    of    his 
collection,   he 


-^-v..\^..V^ 


96  The  Faience  Violin, 


now  knew  the  sad  reverse  of  these  soli- 
tary joys,  and  the  next  morning  when 
he  went  to  knock  at  Gardilanne's  door, 
he  presented  himself  with  a  feigned  ex- 
pression of  composure  in  his  face,  won- 
dering whether  some  subtle  suspicions 
did  not  linger  about  the  blue-room. 

"  Come  in,  my  dear  friend,"  Gardi- 
lanne  called  out  to  him.  With  his 
dressing-gown  wrapped  about  him,  he 
had  thrown  the  window  wide  open  and 
was  looking  at  the  old  houses  in  the 
town. 

**  What !   already  up  !  " 

*'  I  smell  faience  in  the  air,"  said 
Gardilanne,  in  a  tone  which  made 
Dalegre  turn  pale. 

He  had  a  mind  to  throw  himself  at 
his  friend's  feet  and  confess  that  he 
was  deceiving  him ;  but  Gardilanne 
had     his     happy    moments    when     he 


The  Faience  Violin.  97 


ventured  to  jest,  and  his  "  I  smell 
faience  "  was  only  an  idle  remark. 

''  As  I  look  at  your  old  town,"  con- 
tinued Gardilanne,  "  these  antique 
hotels  and  gable-roofed  houses,  I  envy 
the  crippled  devil  who  was  able  to 
lift  up  the  roof  and  see  what  was  hid- 
den away  in  the  garrets.  What  a  col- 
lection must  be  there  of  paintings, 
tapestries,  antique  furniture,  gay 
fa'ience,  the  value  of  which  the  people 
do  not  know,  and  which  would  make 
me  happy !  " 

"  Do  not  deceive  yourself,  my  dear 
friend,"  said  Dalegre ;  **  Parisian  mer- 
chants have  passed  through  Nevers, 
and  have  plundered  it  of  everything." 

**  Bah  !  The  hope  of  gain  is  the  only 
thing  that  attracts  sharpers,  who  are, 
without  doubt,  full  of  craftiness;  but 
the  aim    of    the  true    collector    being 


98  The  Faience  Violin. 


more  noble,  Providence  rewards  him 
by  making  his  faculties  serve  some- 
thing better  than  mean  bargaining.  I 
assure  you  that  I  would  find  something 
to  glean  where  the  king  of  chineurs 
had  passed,  not  merely  something  of 
no  importance,  but  a  marvellous  speci- 
men." 

Dalegre  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 

'*  Happy  man,  not  to  trouble  yourself 
about  curiosities,"  said  Gardilanne. 
"Do  you  know  what  a  fixed  idea  is? 
Do  you  dream  about  faience?" 

''  I  have  never  dreamed  about 
faience,"  replied  Dalegre.  *'  I  lay  my 
head  on  my  pillow,  and  sleep  without 
waking  from  night  till  morning." 

Gardilanne  was  tempted  to  treat  his 
host  like  a  provincial. 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  you,"  he 
added,  "  if    you    lack    this    noble    pas- 


The  Faience  Violin.  99 


sion....  Oh  !  to  awake  with  your  mind 
filled  with  the  idea  of  making  dis- 
coveries, to  go  to  sleep  with  eyes  de- 
lighted by  the  brilliancy  of  an  invisible 
fa'ience  !...  Have  you  never  bored  those 
about  you,  strangers  whom  you  have 
met,  by  talking  to  them  about 
faience  ?  " 

Gardilanne  was  growing  excited,  and 
Dalegre's  face  began  to  assume  a  tran- 
quil expression.  His  friend's  words 
had  just  suggested  a  means  of  escape. 

"  Here  in  the  town  I  am  called  Dale- 
gre-aux-Fa'iences,"  he  said ;  "■  you  are 
the  cause  of  this  nickname....  I  have 
obeyed  your  program  so  literally, 
that  every  one  thinks  I  am  an  ardent 
collector." 

Gardilanne  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
thinking  how  simple-minded  country- 
people  were. 


lOO  The  Faience  Violin. 


"  I  have  asked  for  so  much  informa- 
tion of  the  people  in  the  town  as  well 
as  the  peasants,"  continued  Dalegre, 
"  that  they  have  imagined  that  the 
specimens  bought  solely  for  you  are 
hidden  in  my  house,  and  that  all  sorts 
of  priceless  faience  is  collected  in  some 
corner." 

"  My  poor  friend,  how  much  harm 
I  have  done  you  !  " 

**  Do  not  mention  it....  I  have 
scoured  the  town  and  the  suburbs, 
as  well  as  the  country  round ;  there 
is  actually  nothing   left." 

''  Nothing,  do  you  think?  " 

"  Nothing,  nothing,  nothing." 

"That  is  a  shame,"  said  Gardilanne, 
in  a  tone  of  apparent  indifference.... 
**  So  I  must  not  dream  of  obtaining 
even  the  smallest  specimen?" 

"  Some  ordinary  piece,  perhaps.     If 


The  Faience  l^idm.  iDi 

you  like,  I  will  take  you-  info- the  h^'SghV 
boring  villages ;  we  will  beat  up  the 
game." 

Dalegre  thought  to  himself  that  he 
would  take  Gardilanne  to  the  places  he 
had  recently  drained,  hoping  that  fail- 
ure in  these  would  discourage  his  friend 
from  further  search. 

"  What  are  the  market  days  in 
Nevers?"  asked  Gardilanne. 

**  Wednesday  and  Saturday." 

"  Good  !  I  have  a  plan....  You  are 
a  hunter,  and  have  probably  caught 
larks  with  a  mirror." 

"  Sometimes,"  said  Dalegre. 

"  Well,  on  my  way  here,  I  thought 
of  a  mirror  to  catch  faience." 

"Really!  " 

"  It  is  simply  this :  to  get  a  few 
dishes,  some  antique  Nivernian  plates. 
I  will    exhibit   them  on  a  table  in  the 


102        V    Th^ ;  Pdience  Violin . 

rtlar'kqtf  'besicje,'' mc,  the  public  crier 
shall  beat  the  drum  every  quarter  of 
an  hour,  collect  the  peasants,  and  an- 
nounce that  if  they  will  bring  their  old 
fa'ience  from  their  cupboards  the  next 
market-day,  they  can  exchange  it  for 
ready  money." 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Dalegre  in  dis- 
may. 

**  You  do  not  seem  to  approve  of  my 
plan." 

"  You  are  jesting,  are  you  not?  " 

"  No ;  nothing  could  be  more  seri- 
ous." 

"  My  dear  Gardilanne,  give  up  this 
idea,  I  beg  of  you." 

"Why?" 

"  I  should  lose  my  reputation  forever 
in  Nevers." 

*'  What  a  strange  fear !  " 

"  In    Paris    you    live   free   and    inde- 


The  Fdiefice  Violin,  103 


pendent,  doing  whatever  you  choose, 
and  your  neighbor  pays  no  attention  to 
your  actions ;  in  the  country,  dear  Gar- 
dilanne,  such  eccentricity  in  a  man  who 
is  my  guest  would  reflect  upon  me...." 

"  I  think  you  exaggerate  the  extent 
of  my  plan...." 

"Without  doubt  it  is  a  bright  idea; 
but  after  you  had  gone,  I  should  be 
amply  repaid  for  this  singularity  by 
practical  jokers.  I  should  have  to  en- 
dure endless  sarcastic  remarks  for  years 
to  come....  Tell  me  that  you  will  not  do 
this,  for  friendship's  sake." 

Gardilanne  gave  up  his  plan,  which 
was  a  mere  whim,  and  asked  if  he 
might  visit  the  museum  of  antiquities. 

'*  A  little  later,"  said  Dalegre ;  '*  it  is 
only  nine  o'clock  now.  The  museum 
does  n't  open  till  noon." 

"  How  does  it  happen  that  a  citizen 


104  77/^  Faience  Violin. 


as  prominent  as  yourself  cannot  com- 
mand the  keys? " 

"  No ;  and  now  I  think  of  it,  we 
couldn't  even  go  in  before  next  Thurs- 
day." 

'*  Three  days  to  wait !  "  exclaimed 
Gardilanne ;  "  why,  I  shall  probably 
have  gone  by  that  time." 

*'  Ah,  ha !  "  exclaimed  Dalegre, 
speaking  too  quickly,  and  careless 
about  masking  his  voice. 

Collectors  are  keen  observers.  That 
"  Ah,  ha !  "  escaping  from  Dalegre, 
expressed  a  sort  of  delight,  causing 
Gardilanne  to  glance  at  his  host's  face. 
He  noticed  his  drawn  features,  his  rest- 
less mouth,  his  shifting  eyes,  and  that 
about  his  whole  person  there  was  a  sort 
of  embarrassment,  the  result  of  a  guilty 
conscience. 

Gardilanne's      eyes    penetrated     like 


The  Faience  Violin.  105 


gimlets ;  they  had  acquired  this  faculty 
by  searching  for  works  of  art.  Besides, 
Dalegre  was  not  a  new  example.  Col- 
lectors are  ready  to  deceive  one  an- 
other. 

In  the  beginning  of  his  career  as  col- 
lector, Gardilanne  had  more  than  once 
been  put  on  the  wrong  track  by  ama- 
teurs, his  rivals,  who,  instead  of  inform- 
ing him  about  the  good  places,  were 
only  anxious  to  keep  him  away  from 
them. 

Gardilanne,  once  married,  suspected 
his  wife. 

Dalegre's  **  ah  !  "  impressed  him  ex- 
actly as  a  particle  of  arsenic  discovered 
by  a  chemist  in  the  body  of  a  man 
whose  sudden  death  has  aroused  the 
suspicions  of  the  law.  But  as  he  kept 
this  first  suspicion  to  himself,  Dalegre 
did  not  suspect   that    his    exclamation 


io6  The  Fciieme  Violin, 


had  been  put  in  a  retort  to  undergo 
different  analyses. 

From  this  time  forth,  anxious  to  find 
out  the  countryman's  secret  intentions, 
the  Parisian  acted  his  part  very  cau- 
tiously. 

*'  Certainly,  I  shall  not  stay  longer 
in  Nevers,  if  there  is  nothing  to  be 
found." 

*'  Nevertheless,  I  should  like  to  keep 
you  awhile,"  said  Dalegre ;  ''  but  give 
up  all  hope  in  regard  to  faience." 

"  After  all !  "  said  Gardilanne,  pre- 
tending to  be  indifferent. 

"  Stay  here  with  me,"  said  Dalegre, 
trying  to  show  some  cordiality;  "you 
know  how  glad  I  am  to  have  you  here. 
If  you  do  not  care  to  stay  in  the  town, 
we  will  go  a  few  miles  out  to  a  place 
kept  by  one  of  my  farmers,  where  you 
will  breathe  fine  air,  which  will  do  you 


77?^  Faience  Violin,  107 


good,  after  spending  your  whole  life 
shut  up  in  an  office." 

**  I  like  Nevers  wonderfully  well," 
said  Gardilanne,  afraid  of  being  buried 
in  the  country,  where  he  should  be  un- 
able to  continue  his  researches. 

It  was  decided  that  he  was  to  re- 
main in  the  town,  and  a  secret  combat, 
in  which  much  stratagem  was  displayed, 
was  henceforth  carried  on  between  the 
two  collectors. 

It  seemed  as  if  Dalegre  was  con- 
stantly laying  some  snare  with  the 
guilty  intention  of  entrapping  the  chief 
clerk. 

Gardilanne  tried  to  escape  from  his 
friend,  who  was,  so  to  speak,  glued 
to  him.  They  formed  but  a  single 
body,  but  with  opposite  wills.  Two 
convicts,  fastened  by  the  same  chain, 
and  meditating  different    means   of  es- 


io8  The  Faience  Violin. 


cape,  would  not  have  been  more  hostile. 
And  they  were  obliged  to  be  polite  to 
each  other,  to  shake  hands  every  morn- 
ing, when  Dalegre  had  been  walking 
the  halls  all  night,  for  fear  his  friend 
would  try  to  escape  ! 

This  house,  which  Gardilanne  had 
thought  so  hospitable  when  he  first 
arrived,  now  seemed  like  a  prison  to 
him.  He  no  longer  had  any  freedom 
to  act;  when  he  rose  Dalegre  rose 
also,  or  he  sat  down  when  Gardilanne 
sat  down. 

Gardilanne  possessed  two  shadows. 
If  he  looked  into  a  mirror,  Dalegre's 
face  was  reflected  there.  A  policeman 
on  the  watch  could  not  have  devised  a 
more  tyrannical  supervision.  In  com- 
ing to  Nevers,  Gardilanne  seemed  to 
have  broken  his  ban. 

Like  a  jailer  who  must  not  leave  for 


The  Faience  Violin.  109 


a  second  the  prisoner  intrusted  to  his 
care,  Dalegre  himself  brought  his  friend 
the  warm  water  for  shaving.  Mistrust- 
ing Marguerite,  he  took  her  place  in 
the  most  careful  attentions,  and  forgot 
that  he  had  told  Gardilanne  that  he 
went  to  bed  early. 

Every  night  they  now  held  long 
conversations  by  Gardilanne's  bedside, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  restrain  himself 
from  crying  out : 

**  Go  away !      Leave  me  alone  !  " 

Both  suffered  from  this  constraint, 
from  the  masks  they  wore  over  their 
feelings  and  over  their  faces.  The 
cordial  hospitality  which  Dalegre  was 
obliged  to  parade,  was  sharp  and  had 
the  effect  of  hair-cloth. 

An  incident  which  happened  proved 
to  Gardilanne  that  his  suspicions  were 
not  groundless. 


no  The  Faience  Violin. 


Having  asked  for  the  mustard  at 
breakfast,  the  old  servant  ran  to  the 
kitchen  and  came  back  with  a  Httle 
Nivernian  pot  decorated  with  pretty 
paintings.  Gardilanne  exclaimed  in 
admiration,  Dalegre  allowed  himself  to 
cry  out  in  anger,  and  Marguerite,  fright- 
ened at  the  consequence  of  her  blun- 
der, exclaimed  in  terror. 

For  a  moment,  the  three  actors  in 
this  scene,  ashamed  of  having  given 
way  to  the  expression  of  their  secret 
feelings,  remained  speechless;  Gardi- 
lanne broke  the  silence. 

"There,"  he  said,  reaching  out  his 
hand,  "  is  a  mustard-pot  unequalled  for 
its  elegance." 

**  Pshaw !  "  said  Dalegre,  reaching 
out  his  arm  to  protect  the  object. 

*'  Charming !  fine  !  and  so  well  pre- 
served ! "... 


The  Faience  Violin.  in 


"  It  is  not  bad,"  replied  Dalegre. 

"  You  said  there  was  nothing  to  be 
found  here  !  " 

"  This  is  a  mere  accident !  "... 

**  But  if  I  should  carry  away  nothing 
from  Nevers  but  such  a  mustard-pot,  I 
should  think  that  my  journey  had  not 
been  in  vain." 

Gardilanne  took  the  pot  in  hand, 
turned  it  round,  making  the  enamel 
glisten,  exclaimed  over  it,  was  silent, 
closed  his  eyes,  opened  them  again, 
clacking  his  tongue  as  if  he  had  tasted 
generous  wine. 

Dalegre  now  ventured  to  look  his 
guest  in  the  face  and  watched  every 
gesture,  as  though  he  feared  Gardilanne 
would  put  the  mustard-pot  in  his 
pocket. 

**  It  is  a  little  piece,  which  I  am  fool- 
ish enough  to  wish  to  keep,"   he  said; 


112  The  Faience  Violin. 


*'  it  came  to  me  from  my  great-grand- 
father." 

''All!"  said  Gardilanne  coldly,  as 
he  put  the  mustard-pot  back  on  the 
table. 

"  Really,"  added  Dalegre,  addressing 
his  servant,  "  this  woman  does  not 
know  what  she  is  doing  to  use  so  frail 
a  piece  of  faience  every  day." 

Marguerite,  holding  up  her  hands, 
looked  at  her  master  beseechingly,  like 
a  dog  fearing  punishment. 

"  Go,  take  the  mustard-pot  back  to 
the  kitchen,  you  old  fool  !  Wash  it 
carefully,  and  put  it  away  in  the  closet 
in  my  room  for  fear  it  may  be  broken. 
If  the  slightest  harm  comes  to  it,  I  will 
dismiss  you." 

*'  How  you  treat  that  poor  Mar- 
guerite!"... Fortunately  she  doesn't 
hear  you,"  said    Gardilanne,    surprised 


The  Faience  Violin.  113 


that  a  simple  mustard-pot  should  cause 
his  friend  to  become  so  irritated,  when 
he  was  naturally  so  even-tempered. 

Dalegre  referred  to  the  attachment 
he  felt  for  an  object  which  had  come 
to  him  from  his  grandparents,  and 
Gardilanne,  familiar  with  this  sort  of 
reasoning,  used  by  the  peasants  when 
making  a  bargain,  said  to  himself: 

"  He  has  pretended  to  be  angry,  so 
that  he  will  not  have  to  give  me  his 
fa'ience  pot." 

However,  Gardilanne  made  the  best 
of  the  matter,  and  having  locked  up 
the  mustard-pot  in  the  mental  armory 
where  he  kept  his  suspicions,  the  chief 
clerk  experienced  a  sort  of  satisfaction 
similar  to  that  of  a  magistrate  who  has 
put  his  hand  on  an  important  piece  of 
evidence. 

The  mustard-pot  was  fixed    in  Gar- 


114  The  Faience  Violin. 


dilanne's  mind,  if  it  did  not  receive  a 
place  in  his  collection.  It  had  been 
examined  by  a  collector's  eyes,  which 
exceed  those  of  the  lynx  in  keenness, 
because  they  are  endowed  with  the 
power  of  induction  refused  to  the 
understanding  of  animals. 

This  little  pot,  the  only  work  of  art 
Gardilanne  had  been  allowed  to  see 
thus  far  in  his  host's  house,  assumed 
a  special  radiancy  on  account  of  its 
isolation.  It  seemed  a  rare  and  price- 
less object,  a  monument  in  this  provin- 
cial home,  so  cold  and  neglected  in 
appearance. 

The  easy-chairs  of  Utrecht  velvet, 
the  family  portraits  in  pastel,  the 
empire  furniture  in  mahogany,  failed 
to  interest  Gardilanne. 

The  large  yard  adjoining  the  house, 
the  stable,  the  poultry  yard,  the  garden 


The  Faience  Violin.  115 


beyond  the  yard,  the  absolute  quiet 
which  reigned  in-doors,  seemed  tiresome 
to  a  man  accustomed,  in  Paris,  to  start 
early  in  the  morning  in  search  of  works 
of  art  in  the  midst  of  a  busy  crowd  of 
people. 

When  the  unhappy  man  opened  his 
windows  he  did  not  enjoy  the  morning 
odors  coming  from  the  garden,  the 
verdure  of  the  trees,  the  peeping  of  the 
fowls  as  Marguerite  brought  them  their 
grain. 

At  breakfast  Gardilanne  was  served 
with  eggs  laid  five  minutes  before,. with 
butter  wrapped  in  leaves  still  wet  with 
dew,  and  vegetables  of  delicious  flavor ; 
these  pleasures,  so  exquisite  to  any 
other  Parisian,  aroused  no  particular 
relish  in  the  palate  of  a  being  whose 
only  sensations  were  turned  towards 
things  of  a  purely  archaic  nature. 


ii6  The  Faience  Violin. 


One  morning,  while  they  were  at 
breakfast,  Dalegre  was  called  to  his 
office. 

"  I  shan't  be  gone  more  than  five 
minutes,  my  dear  friend,"  he  said  to 
Gardilanne.  *'  Then  I  am  at  your  dis- 
posal." 

Marguerite,  who  was  waiting  on  the 
table,  looked  with  commiseration  at 
the  chief  clerk,  always  so  meditative, 
dipping  a  thin  piece  of  bread  mechani- 
cally into  his  boiled  Qgg. 

"  You  have  n't  a  famous  appetite, 
monsieur,"  said  the  servant,  forgetting 
her  master's  orders. 

"  No,  my  poor  Marguerite,"  replied 
Gardilanne,  absorbed  in  his  thoughts. 

*'  You  are  not  like  monsieur,"  con- 
tinued the  servant....  "  I  assure  you,  his 
jaws  work  when  he  is  at  the  table." 

Gardilanne    tapped    his    forehead    to 


The  Faience  Violin,  117 

indicate  that  there  was  the  seat  of  his 
great  labor. 

**  Do  you  sleep  well,  monsieur?" 
asked  Marguerite. 

*'  I  rest  fairly  well,"  said  Gardilanne. 

"  If  your  bed  is  not  made  to  suit  you, 
you  mustn't  hesitate  to  speak  about 
it." 

Gardilanne  shook  his  head. 

•*  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  have  me 
tuck  up  the  bed  in  the  evening?  " 

A  sudden  thought  flashed  through 
Gardilanne's  mind. 

"  You  are  no  longer  deaf  ?  "  he  ex- 
claimed. 

Marguerite  cried  out  with  terror. 
At  the  same  time  she  instinctively 
carried  her  hands  to  her  ears. 

"  Yes  !  yes  !  "  she  said,  with  her  face 
full  of  fear. 

And    approaching    Gardilanne,    she 


ii8  The  Faience  Violin. 


cried  out  in  a  voice  loud  enough  to 
knock  him  over : 

"  I  am  deaf  !     I  am  deaf  !  " 

Gardilanne's  plate  fell  to  the  floor. 

Recovering  his  presence  of  mind,  he 
looked  attentively  at  the  old  servant, 
who  stood  nailed  to  the  spot,  her  hands 
held  tightly  over  her  ears. 

"  Surely  there  is  something  strange 
going  on  in  this  house,"  thought  the 
chief  clerk. 

Just  then  Dalegre  came  back,  and 
Marguerite,  all  confusion,  took  the  op- 
portunity to  escape. 

Not  wishing  to  give  any  evidence  of 
the  discovery  he  had  just  made,  and 
summoning  the  most  natural  tones  of 
his  voice,  Gardilanne  said : 

"  My  dear  friend,  the  time  certainly 
passes  very  pleasantly  here  with  you  ; 
but  I   must  not  lose  sight  of  my  mis- 


The  Faience  Violin. 


119 


sion.     I    am    anxious  to  begin   my  re- 
searches....    I  really  must." 

**  Well,     to-morrow     we      will      run 
through  the  town,"  said  Dalegre. 


x«til5»*;wv7 


A  DAY  was  spent 
in  visiting  the  sec- 
ond-hand shops  in 
the  town,  where, 
indeed,  there  was 
nothing  to  be  found 
but  wretched  furni- 
ture, frieze-panels 
painted  by  glaziers, 
and  other  things  of 
like  value.  Dalegre 
took    his    friend    to 


The  Faience  Violin.  121 


the  places  where  he  had  been  himself, 
hoping  to  baffle  his  ardent  determina- 
tion to  find  something  worth  buying. 

He  made  him  spend  three  days  in 
this  way,  all  to  no  purpose,  in  the  sub- 
urbs and  outskirts  of  the  town,  without 
showing  him  anything  but  the  popular 
ware  of  Nevers,  which  is  not  worth,  at 
a  reasonable  price,  more  than  four  sous 
a  plate. 

Gardilanne,  in  despair,  secretly  cursed 
his  journey,  but  a  new  occurrence  re- 
doubled his  suspicions. 

Having  asked  Dalegre  for  some 
writing  materials,  he  took  him  into  his 
private  room,  which  he  thought  had 
been  cleared  of  every  specimen  that 
would  betray  him;  he  forgot  that  on 
his  table  lay  a  little  faience  desk  which 
caused  Gardilanne  to  exclaim  enthusi- 
astically ; 


122  The  Faience  Fiolin, 


"  Bless  me  !  "  he  said....  *'  Ah,  how 
I  should  like  to  write  on  such  a  desk  !  " 

Although  containing  himself,  Da- 
legre  tapped  his  foot;  his  exasperated 
muscles  were  writhing  in  his  boots. 
He  looked  anxiously  first  at  his  judge 
and  then  at  the  damning  piece  of  evi- 
dence. 

Of  a  white  enamel,  almost  as  pure  as 
a  delicate  Sevres  paste,  it  was  the  most 
fascinating  desk  ever  seen. 

Over  this  soft  white  background  ran 
fanciful  arabesques,  among  which 
cupids  were  playing  in  the  manner 
of  Callot,  while  on  the  side  hump- 
backed lovers  were  telling  their  woes 
to  beautiful  ladies,  whose  graceful  atti- 
tudes recalled  the  figures  of  the  Re- 
naissance. 

The  whole  desk  was  covered  with 
fanciful     yellow     and      green      figures 


77?^  Faience  Violin.  123 


attached  to  elegant  scallops,  which 
stood  out  on  the  delicate  milky  glaze 
of  the  background. 

Gardilanne,  without  saying  a  word, 
slowly  raised  the  cover  of  the  desk. 
An  ingenious  painter  had  scattered  a 
profusion  of  amusing  dwarfs  over  the  ex- 
terior and  interior  surfaces  of  the  article. 

"  It  is  really  a  royal  specimen,"  said 
Gardilanne,  who  would  have  been  will- 
ing to  live  shut  up  in  the  desk  to  enjoy 
it  better. 

Dalegre,  quite  pallid,  exclaimed : 

"  It  came  to  me  also...." 

"  From  your  grandmother,"  inter- 
rupted Gardilanne,  ironically. 

An  icy  coldness  followed  this  first 
skirmish.  The  two  adversaries  re- 
coiled, as  if  to  find  the  best  attitude 
for  combat.  Gardilanne  was  the  first 
to  break  the  silence. 


124  T^^^  Faience  Violin, 


"  How  did  such  a  masterpiece 
happen  to  be  found  in  Nevers?  It 
is  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  the 
Moustiers  pottery." 

"■  The  Nivernian  potters,"  said  Da- 
legre,  "wished  to  have  some  specimens 
of  the  work  of  rival  potteries  under 
their  eyes...." 

"Do  you  believe  it?"  said  Gar- 
dilanne. 

"  There  is  no  doubt  of  it.  I  have 
found  two  very  curious  soup-tureens  of 
the  Niderviller  ware." 

"  Where  are  they?  " 

Dalegre  was  terrified.  He  had 
spoken  too  hastily. 

•*  I ...  I  gave  ...  them  ...  away." 

"To  whom?"  asked  the  chief  clerk, 
authoritatively,  letting  his  friend  plainly 
understand  that  he  was  not  willing  to 
have  him  make  presents  to  any  one  but 


The  Faience  Violin .  125 


himself,  Gardilanne,  the  amateur  emeri- 
tus, the  distinguished  collector. 

"  So  there  are  amateurs  in  Nevers," 
he  added. 

Dalegre,  under  the  stress  of  these 
imperative  questions,  was  at  a  loss  for 
a  crafty  reply. 

"  I  am  surprised,"  said  Gardilanne, 
moderating  his  voice,  '*  that  you  have 
become  so  learned ;  you  talk  about 
faience  like  a  true  connoisseur,  and  I 
never  believed  that  I  should  be  hon- 
ored by  having  such  a  pupil." 

Dalegre  muttered  something,  plead- 
ing his  ignorance. 

"  Not  at  all ;  you  know  as  much 
about  it  as  I  do ;  a  man  who  possesses 
such  a  piece  as  this  is  one  of  the 
cleverest  amateurs....  Now,  let  us  speak 
frankly.  This  desk  is  adorable.  I  say 
it  without   the    least    hesitation....  Will 


126  The  Faience  Violin, 

you  let  me  have  it  for  five  hundred 
francs  ?  " 

Gardilanne  unbuttoned  his  coat  and 
drew  out  a  pocket-book. 

Dalegre  reached  out  his  hand,  signi- 
fying his  refusal. 

''  See  !  "  said  the  tempter,  *'  five  new 
bank-notes !  You  will  give  me  pleas- 
ure, and  I  shall  owe  you  much  grati- 
tude, besides." 

"  It  is  almost  a  family  relic,  my  dear 
friend.  It  would  cost  me  too  much  to 
part  with  it." 

'*  Well...  we  will  say  no  more  about 
it,"  said  Gardilanne,  drily. 

"  I  would  give  it  to  you  gladly  if  it 
did  not  remind  me  of  my  poor  grand- 
mother." 

"  A  very  good  reason,"  said  Gardi- 
lanne. in  a  changed  voice. 

"  Five    hundred    francs     is    a    large 


The  Faience  Violin.  127 


price,"  added  Dalegre,  ''  but  money  is 
no  temptation  to  me,  and  I  wish  that  1 
could  present  the  desk  to  you." 

"  I  understand  your  motives,"  said 
Gardilanne,  in  a  tone  betraying  great 
vexation. 

**  We  provincials  only  live  by  the 
memory  of  our  ancestors,"  exclaimed 
Dalegre,  sighing  and  trying  to  show 
some  emotion. 

The  result  of  this  conversation  be- 
tween the  two  friends  was  like  damp  air 
on  the  steel  of  their  feelings ;  rust 
seemed  to  tarnish  its  polished  surface. 

Although  secret  and  restrained, 
nevertheless  a  sharp  jealousy  was 
smouldering  between  the  two  collec- 
tors ;  they  now  decided  that  friendship 
and  a  passion  for  bric-a-brac  could  not 
exist  in  perfect  union. 

However,  Dalegre,  in  his  capacity  as 


128  The  Faience  Violin. 


master  of  the  house,  tried  to  make  his 
friend  forget  this  unfortunate  occur- 
rence by  offering  him,  at  breakfast,  a 
kind  of  Burgundy  wine  twenty  years 
old ;  but  collectors  care  little  for  the 
enjoyments  of  the  table. 

Gardilanne  would  have  fasted  for  a 
week  to  gain  possession  of  the  elegant 
Moustiers  desk. 

"  I  shall  leave  you  to-morrow,"  he 
said  to  Dalegre. 

''So  soon?" 

"What  can  I  do  here  any  longer?" 
added  Gardilanne  with  bitterness. 

The  hardness  of  the  remark  affected 
the  breakfast.  Dalegre  felt  some  re- 
morse;  but  he  could  not  make  up  his 
mind,  in  spite  of  all,  to  give  up  the 
famous  faience  desk. 

When  the  meal  was  over,  Gardilanne 
expressed  a  desire  to  make  a  last  expe- 


The  Faience  Violin.  129 


dition  through  the  town  at  random. 
He  even  desired  Dalegre  not  to  follow 
him ;  but  Dalegre  took  care  not  to 
comply  with  this  request,  having  prom- 
ised himself  not  to  leave  the  Parisian 
for  a  moment.  Although  Gardilanne 
seemed  annoyed  by  this  determination 
to  accompany  him,  Dalegre  kept  to  it. 

Usually  the  two  friends  went  out  to- 
gether arm-in-arm. 

To-day,  Gardilanne,  to  show  his  in- 
tention of  recovering  his  independence, 
tried  to  walk  a  few  steps  away  from 
Dalegre ;  as  he  had  long,  thin,  nervous 
legs,  he  shot  through  the  town  with  an 
eagerness  unpleasant  to  the  Nivernian, 
who  was  stoutly  built,  with  a  chest 
better  developed  than   his  legs. 

He  went  up  the  steep  streets  like  a 
soldier  climbing  a  barricade,  and  down 
them  like  a  runaway  horse.    He  crossed 


130  The  Faience  Violin. 


the  large  squares  in  the  broad  sunlight 
without  winking. 

Dalegre  panted  for  breath ;  great 
beads  of  perspiration  dropped  from  his 
forehead. 

In  spite  of  this  violent  course,  Gardi- 
lanne  scrutinized  the  interiors  of  the 
houses,  and  sniffed  at  every  old  build- 
ing, moving  his  nostrils  in  a  way  which 
disturbed  his  friend. 

In  this  manner  they  reached  the 
wharves,  near  the  large  bridge,  the 
place  chosen  by  the  faience  potters  to 
paint  the  Nievre,  its  boats,  and  the 
warm  sunlight  so  dear  to  the  vine- 
dressers. 

The  banks  of  the  river  are  inhabited 
by  workmen  and  boatmen. 

At  this  place,  Gardilanne  slackened 
his  pace  to  give  a  passing  glance  into 
every  open   door,   and  at  the  walls  on 


The  Fdieme  Violin.  131 


which  were  generally  found  some 
pieces  of  commonplace  ware ;  plates 
decorated  with  large  cocks,  shaving- 
dishes  with  comic,  old-fashioned  de- 
signs, salad-bowls  on  which  the  boat- 
men's ancestors  were  represented  with 
faces  of  their  patron  saints. 

These  were  not  what  Gardilanne  was 
looking  for. 

"  You  see  !  "  said  Dalegre,  "  nothing 
but  trash," 

Gardilanne  went  on  his  way  without 
replying. 

At  the  extreme  end  of  the  wharf 
stood  a  shed  crammed  with  the  rub- 
bish from  old  buildings :  old  doors, 
remnants  of  windows,  worm-eaten 
furniture,  heaps  of  rags  for  paper- 
manufacturers,  odd  volumes,  the  usual 
contents  of  all  junk-shops. 

At  the  back  of  the  shed,  reaching  to 


132  The  Faience  Violin. 


the  beams,  stood  a  peasant's  cupboard, 
of  immense  size,  one  door  of  which  was 
open  and  showed  a  varied  assortment 
of  rags. 

Gardilanne  suddenly  stopped  as  if  to 
get  his  breath,  and  squinting,  said  to 
a  man  who  was  leaning  over  a  bench 
in  front  of  his  house,  and  planing  a 
board : 

*'  That 's  a  fine  chest." 

Dalegre  looked  at  the  piece  of  furni- 
ture and  was  surprised  at  his  friend's 
exclamation. 

'*  Too  large,  unfortunately,"  said 
Gardilanne  to  the  dealer,  "  or  I  should 
like  to  take  it  away  with  me." 

*' You  are  from  Paris?"  asked  the 
dealer. 

'*  Will  you  allow  me  to  measure  the 
height  of  the  chest,  to  see  if  it  would 
go    into    my    apartment?       If  you  are 


The  Faience  Violin,  133 


reasonable,  perhaps  we  can  make  a 
bargain." 

Having  examined  the  piece  of  furni- 
ture, Gardilanne  asked : 

**  How  much  is  your  cupboard?  " 

"  Monsieur,  such  a  piece  of  furniture 
as  that  is  worth  fifty  francs,  if  it  is 
worth  anything  at  all." 

**  Fifty  francs  !...  You  are  joking." 

**  Think  of  it,  monsieur,  the  piece  of 
furniture  is  of  solid  oak  with  ironwork 
such  as  cannot  be  made  in  these  days." 

**  I  would  be  glad  to  take  it  for  forty 
francs." 

*'  Are  you  mad?  "  Dalegre  whispered 
in  Gardilanne's  ear.  "  I  can  get  you  as 
many  as  you  want,  and  better,  for  half 
the  price." 

*'  Ah  !  the  Parisians  know  what  they 
are  about!"  exclaimed  the  dealer. 
"They  are  shrewd;   they  buy  for  fifty 


134  Th^  Faience  Violin. 


francs  what  is  worth  a  hundred  crowns. 
Look  at  the  mouldings,  monsieur,  and 
tell  me  if  workmen  would  be  able  to  do 
such  work  in  wood  to-day." 

As  he  went  on  talking  the  dealer  left 
his  task,  took  two  chairs  and  offered 
them  to  his  visitors,  saying,  like  a  scep- 
tical Burgundian : 

*'  You  are  not  in  church ;  you  do  not 
have  to  pay  to  sit  down  here." 

"  Do  n't  trouble  yourself,"  said  Gardi- 
lanne.  "  I  see  perfectly  well ;  I  will 
not  give  more  than  forty  francs  for  the 
cupboard." 

**  It  cost  me  forty-one,  without  the 
expense  of  moving  it....  Monsieur  is 
just  enough  to  admit  that  every  one 
must  live." 

**  The  cupboard  would  be  well  paid 
for  at  twenty-five  francs,"  insisted 
Dalegre. 


The  Faience  Violin,  135 


'*  Oh,  monsieur,  how  can  you  say 
so !  "  exclaimed  the  shopkeeper,  dis- 
pleased to  have  one  of  his  own  towns- 
men prevent  him  from  making  a  sale. 

'*  Forty  francs  and  the  freight  will 
bring  it  up  to  sixty  francs,"  said  Gar- 
dilanne. 

And  he  walked  slowly  out  of  the 
shop. 

"  Come,  monsieur,  let  us  split  the 
difference ;  you  will  give  me  forty-five 
francs." 

"  I  will  think  it  over,"  said  Gardi- 
lanne. 

The  two  collectors  started  back  to 
Dalegre's  house. 

"  Honestly,  why  do  you  want  to 
burden  yourself  with  this  dreadful  piece 
of  furniture?"  asked  Dalegre,  on  the 
way  back. 

"  I  need  a  cupboard  to  keep  my  en- 


136  The  Faience  Violin. 


gravings  in,"  said  Gardilanne ;  ''this 
one  would  be  very  useful  to  me." 

"If  you  will  stay  in  Nevers  two  days 
longer  I  will  promise  to  find  you  a  far 
more  curious  one  in  the  country." 

As  they  went  on  discussing,  they 
reached  Dalegre's  door,  when  Gardi- 
lanne suddenly  took  to  his  heels  and 
ran  off,  calling  out  to  his  friend : 

*'  I  am  really  going  to  get  the  cup- 
board." 

And  he  disappeared,  evidently  bent 
on  some  mad  course,  for  with  one 
stroke  he  pulled  his  hat  down  over  his 
head. 

''  Gc.rdilanne,  wait  for  me !  "  ex- 
claimed Dalegre,  as  astounded  as  a 
policeman  seeing  a  criminal  intrusted 
to  his  care  escape  through  the  door  of 
a  railway  car." 

Gardilanne,  without  reply,  made  the 


The  Faience  Violin. 


137 


dust  fly,  and  gradually  became  a  mere 
dot  on  the  horizon. 

Dalegre  watched  this  dot  for  some 
time,  as  it  moved  away,  and  he 
shrugged    his    shoulders. 

"  As  Gardilanne  has  found  nothing 
to  carry  away  from  Nevers,"  he 
thought,  *'  his  mania  for  buying  things 
has  brought  him  to  burden  himself  with 
that  wretched  cupboard." 


X. 

Whoever  saw  the 
collect  o  r  fly  i  n  g 
through  Nevers  like 
a  mad  mare  must 
have  been  frightened 
at  his  vehemence,  so 
unfamiliar  to  the 
country    people. 

His  large  coat  flut- 
tering   in     the    wind, 

his  long  legs  part- 


ing like  a  com- 


The  Faience  Violin.  139 


pass,  his  gray  hair  floating  out  from 
under  his  broad-brimmed  hat,  did  not 
seem  in  harmony  with  the  chief  clerk's 
formal  nature ;  but  Gardilanne  cared 
httle  for  what  people  might  think  of  his 
speed. 

In  less  than  ten  minutes  he  reached 
the  junk-shop  on  the  quay. 

"I  shall  leave  here  this  evening," 
said  Gardilanne.  ''I  may  possibly  buy 
your  cupboard ;  let  me  look  at  the 
inside,  first." 

"  Solid  as  a  prison  door,  monsieur." 

**  Well,  take  all  this  mass  of  stuff  out 
of  it." 

In  the  lower  part  there  was  old  iron 
and  cooking  utensils,  and  on  the  upper 
shelves  a  heap  of  worthless  rubbish. 

In  the  corner  of  the  last  shelf  shone 
a  piece  of  faience,  curiously  fashioned, 
possibly  a  fragment  of  no  importance. 


I40  The  Faience  Violin. 


The  dealer,  while  clearing  out  the 
cupboard,  said : 

"■  You  are  not  a  musician,  by  any- 
chance,  are  you,   monsieur?" 

-Why?" 

**  Because  there  is  a  plaything  here 
in  this  cupboard,  a  foolish  toy,  a  china 
violin." 

Gardilanne  felt  as  if  his  heart  would 
burst.  However,  not  a  muscle  of  his 
face  moved. 

*'  A  child's  violin,  probably,"  he  said, 
pretending  to  smile  indifferently. 

"No;  I  would  not  let  the  scamps 
play  on  so  frail  a  violin,  for  it  is  worth 
at  least  a  crown." 

The  dealer  raised  his  arm  and 
offered  the  instrument  to  Gardilanne, 
who  took  it  without  looking  at  it. 
Feeling  his  eyes  twitch,  he  turned 
away  his  head,  for  fear  the  shopkeeper 


The  Faience  Violin.  141 


would  notice  the  change  in  his  face. 
He  was  just  able  to  restrain  himself 
and  utter  a  />oo/i  /  of  disdain,  and  went 
to  open  the  doors  of  the  cupboard 
again,  as  if  to  assure  himself  of  their 
solidity.  His  feelings  were  too  much 
for  him  ! 

A  strange  sensation  passed  through 
Gardilanne's  brain.  As  soon  as  he  felt 
it,  he  thought  it  prudent  to  sit  down. 

Six  francs  for  the  wonderful  violin, 
which  was  perhaps  worth  six  thousand  ! 
This  is  the  kind  of  luck  which  shortens 
collectors'  lives,  their  medulla  oblongata 
being  exposed  to  too  great  a  shock. 

"■  Let  us  see,"  said  Gardilanne.  **  I 
will  take  the  cupboard  for  forty-five 
francs,  on  condition  that  you  will  throw 
in  the  faience  toy.  I  have  a  little 
nephew,  and  I  should  like  to  make  him 
a  present  of  it." 


142  The  Faience  l^iolin. 


'•You  may  have  it  for  forty-five 
francs,"  said  the  dealer;  *'  but  you  will 
get  a  famous  cupboard,  monsieur."" 

All  of  a  tremble,  for  his  nervous 
system  was  strained  beyond  all  meas- 
ure, Gardilanne  counted  out  the  money 
with  a  feverish  hand,  and  took  the 
violin  under  his  arm. 

*'  Monsieur  !"  exclaimed  the  dealer,  "  I 
will  wrap  it  up  in  some  paper  for  you." 

"  You  need  not  take  the  trouble," 
said  Gardilanne,  performing  the  opera- 
tion himself,  for  fear  the  shopkeeper 
would  take  back  the  violin. 

*'  You  have  not  told  me  where  to 
send  the   cupboard." 

'•  To  the  bottom  of  the  river !  "  ex- 
claimed Gardilanne,  as  soon  as  he  had 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  shop. 

On  his  way  back  to  Dalegre's  house, 
the  chief  clerk  wondered  how  he  ought 


The  Faience  Violin,  143 


to  behave  with  regard  to  his  friend. 
Should  he  show  him  the  precious 
violin,  and  be  revenged  for  the  bad 
grace  with  which  the  Nivernian  had 
refused  to  give  up  the  faience  desk  to 
him?  But  Gardilanne,  now  satisfied, 
lost  all  feeling  of  spite.  Too  happy  in 
his  treasure-trove,  he  waited  for  the 
meeting  with  his  host  to  suggest  some 
proper  means  of  explaining  the  incident. 

It  happened  that  Dalegre  was  at  a 
window  looking  out  on  the  street  by 
which  Gardilanne  was  approaching. 
From  a  distance,  Gardilanne  cried  out: 

"  Is  there  a  packer  in  the  neighbor- 
hood?" 

*'  Did  he  want  to  have  the  cupboard 
packed?"  asked  Dalegre,  concerned 
about  the  little  package  which  his 
friend  was  carrying  under  his  arm. 

''  Ah,   my  dear  Dalegre,"   exclaimed 


144  The  Faience  Violin, 


Gardilanne,  in  a  voice  full  of  emotion, 
''  let  me  hug  you  !  " 

At  the  same  time  the  chief  clerk  fell 
into  Dalegre's  arms. 

''  Do  explain  to  me....  " 

Gardilanne  excitedly  unfolded  the 
wrapping  which  concealed  his  treasure. 

*'  I  have  found  the  violin  !  " 

"What  violin?" 

"  Wait,  see  !  " 

Then  appeared  a  marvellous  instru- 
ment with  curves  fit  to  make  Stradi- 
varius  himself  jealous.  The  glaze  was 
of  an  incomparable  purity,  and  the 
deep  blue  of  the  designs  reminded  one 
of  the  skies  of  Spain. 

Never  was  the  art  of  the  fa'ience 
worker  carried  farther.  Not  a  crack, 
not  a  scratch,  even  in  the  delicate  turn- 
ing of  the  neck. 

Dalegre  grew  green ;   but  when  Gar- 


The  Faience  Fiolin.  145 


dilanne  turned  the  violin  over  to  show- 
its  back,  a  veil  passed  over  the  Niver- 
nian's  eyes,  for  he  thought  he  could  not 
bear  the  sight  of  the  paintings  on  the 
masterpiece. 

Angels  in  the  clouds  were  playing 
on  the  viola  and  floating  a  streamer  on 
which  were  the  words :  Musica  et  gloria 
in  aer ;  underneath,  people  in  fine  cos- 
tumes surrounded  a  pretty  woman  at 
the  harpsichord. 

"Is  it  splendid  enough?"  exclaimed 
Gardilanne,  who  would  have  liked  as 
many  eyes  as  Argus,  with  which  to 
look   at  his  new  acquisition. 

Dalegre  could  not  control  his  feel- 
ings. A  cold  sweat  stood  out  on  his 
forehead.  He  tried  to  speak ;  the 
words  stuck  in  his  throat.  If  Gardi- 
lanne had  struck  him  on  the  skull 
with  the   faience  violin,  he  would   have 


146  The  Faience  Violin. 


preferred  the  blow  to  the  moral 
wound  which  completely  paralyzed  him. 
Wholly  crushed,  he  fell  into  a  chair. 

*'  What  a  return  to  Paris  I  shall  make 
day  after  to-morrow !  "  said  Gardilanne, 
more  proud  at  this  moment  than  a  vic- 
torious general  received  by  a  people 
covering  him  with  flowers. 

"Where...  did...  you  find...  the  vio- 
lin? "  asked  Dalegre,  after  he  had  recov- 
ered himself  a  little. 

"  At  the  junk-shop  on  the  quay, 
where  I  bought  the  cupboard." 

*'Is  it  possible?  "  exclaimed  Dalegre, 
trembling  in  every  limb. 

''Why,  didn't  you  see  the  violin?  It 
fairly  put  my  eyes  out  in  the  shop." 

"  While  I  was  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  friend.  Ah,  you 
have  n't  the  American  eye  yet !  Did  n't 
you  understand,  when  I  was  bargaining 


The  Faience  Violin.  147 

for  that  abominable  cupboard,  that  in 
the  grove  there  was  concealed  a  won- 
derful bird  that  I  was  trying  to  charm 
with  sweet  words?  ...  And  yet  I  gave 
you  lessons  in  Paris..  .  Tell  me  where  the 
best  packer  in  the  town  is  to  be  found." 

''For  the  violin?" 

*'  Yes ;  I  want  to  make  arrangements 
immediately  with  a  workman  to  do  up 
the  instrument  in  wadding  first,  then  Hi 
hair  and  bran." 

**  Why  are  you  in  such  a  hurry?  " 

**  Because  I  really  want  to  go  away 
to-morrow." 

Dalegre  was  as  much  distressed  now 
by  the  announcement  of  Gardilanne's 
departure  as  he  would  have  been  de- 
lighted the  day  before.  It  broke  his 
heart  to  have  the  violin  discovered 
under  his  very  eyes ;  but  what  should 
have  separated   the  two  collectors  for- 


148 


The  Faience  Violin. 


ever,  on  the  contrary,  formed  a  sort  of 
union  between  them, 

Ahhough  profoundly  exasperated, 
Dalegre  became  all  honey  for  his 
guest;  at  table  he  coddled  him  like  a 
millionaire  uncle,  and  seemed  almost 
offended  by  Gardilanne's  short  stay  in 
Nevers.  He  had  n't  seen  anything,  he 
was  n't  even  rested.  Why  shouid  he 
not  defer  his  departure? 

Gardilanne  did  not  relish  these  tardy 
attentions.  If  he  could  have  taken  the 
stage  that  same  evening,  he  would  have 
gone  away,  thinking  of  nothing  but  ex- 
posing a  priceless  trophy  in  the  most 
conspicuous  place  in  his  museum. 


-"•aUv, 


A  MONTH  after  Gar- 
dilanne's  departure,  Dale- 
gre  could  not  have  been 
recognized.  The  gay 
Nivernian,  with  his  round, 
rosy  cheeks,  had  grown 
into  a  careworn  creature, 
whose  face  was  assuming 
more  and  more  each  day 
the  bih'ous  Hvery  of  envy. 

Dalegre,  consumed  with 


150  The  Faience  Violin. 


jealousy,  was  hardly  able  to  eat; 
dreams  filled  with  the  faience  violin 
haunted  him   constantly. 

It  seemed  as  if  an  avenging  demon 
sent  nightmares  every  night,  which 
were  all  the  more  terrible  because  they 
began  in  the  form  of  sweet  illusions. 

Dalegre  would  hardly  close  his  eyes 
before  he  would  hear  seraphic  music : 
angels  singing  and  accompanying  Saint 
Cecilia,  who  drew  from  the  faience 
violin  vibrations  clearer  than  those  of 
a  crystal  bell. 

Deeply  agitated,  Dalegre  would  give 
himself  up  to  a  sweet  rapture,  when 
suddenly  the  blue  clouds  would  disap- 
pear to  give  place  to  pestilential  flames  ; 
at  the  same  time  a  terrible  gnome, 
crouching  on  the  sleeper's  breast  and 
stifling  him,  would  tear  epileptic  melo- 
dies from   the  soul  of  the   instrument. 


The  Faience  Violin,  151 


Dalegre  would  awaken  terrified.  In 
order  not  to  repeat  this  painful  night- 
mare, he  would  rise,  open  the  window, 
and  not  venture  back  into  bed  again 
till  he  felt  sure  the  diabolical  visions 
had  fled. 

In  the  daytime,  if  the  nightmares  dis- 
appeared, the  fixed  idea  of  the  violin 
was  constantly  before  him. 

**  It  would  have  looked  so  well 
against  this  panel ! "  Dalegre  said  to 
himself  as  he  looked  at  a  bare  wain- 
scoting. 

Or  else  he  would  think  that  his  repu- 
tation would  have  been  established  for- 
ever if  he  could  have  gained  possession 
of  the  priceless  faience. 

One  day,  while  arranging  some  plates 
in  piles,  he  came  upon  the  very  brunettes 
of  Mondonville,  which  had  formerly 
delighted  him  so  much,  and  now  almost 


152  77?^  Faience  Violin. 


made  him  weep.  One  of  these  songs, 
with  its  solemn  chant,  seemed  so  thor- 
oughly in  harmony  with  his  former  gay 
character;    the  song  began  Hke  this : 

Povr  passer  dovce?ne7it  ma  vie 
Avec  ) 1 10 11  petit  revenu, 
A?ms,  je  fonde  vne  abbaye^ 
Et  je  la  consacre  a  Bacchvsl 

How  sweet  it  would  be  to  puzzle  out 
with  the  violin  this  melody  engraved 
under  the  glaze  ! 

The  serenity  of  character  which 
formed  the  basis  of  Dalegre's  nature 
had  disappeared. 

Once  he  had  been  proud  to  add  a 
specimen  to  his  collection  of  faience, 
and  now,  losing  the  opportunity  of 
obtaining  a  masterpiece,  snatched  from 
under  his  very  eyes,  seemed  to  make  a 
corresponding  void  in  this  collection  of 
precious     objects,     regarded     by    their 


The  Faience  Violin.  153 


possessor  with  something  more  than 
indifference. 

This  dissatisfaction  with  the  sole 
passion  which  held  sway  in  Dalegre's 
heart  completely  changed  his  manner 
of  life.  The  soul  losing  its  energy,  his 
face  assumed  a  morose  aspect  and  his 
body  suddenly  began  to  be  affected. 

So  in  Nevers,  people  were  beginning 
to  be  concerned  about  the  strange  de- 
jection of  a  man  who  had  been  the  life 
of  the  town  for  so  long ;  the  mothers 
of  young  marriageable  daughters  were 
especially  surprised  at  the  sudden  mel- 
ancholy of  the  once  so  gay  bachelor, 
whom  each  family  had  aspired  to  have 
as  a  son-in-law. 

But  how  far  Dalegre  v/as  from  marry- 
ing!  He  had  never  dreamed  of  it 
except  casually ;  the  pleasure  of  hunt- 
ing had  taken  his  mind  from  it  at  first, 


154  T^he  Faience  Violin. 


and  then  came  faience,  which  was  an 
exacting  mistress  of  a  very  different 
sort.  His  collection  was  a  kind  of 
union  such  as  people  often  form  when, 
having  coasted  along  the  shores  of 
matrimony,  they  have  recognized  its 
shoals,  and  afterwards  do  not  dare  to 
risk  making  for  that  port,  though  it  is 
protected  from  the  passions. 

Dalegre  lived  with  faience ;  he  had 
expected  to  find  peace  of  mind  in  this 
union.  It  has  already  been  seen  what 
storms  awaited  him  there. 

Now,  in  days  gone  by,  a  matrimonial 
plan  had  presented  itself  which  was  far 
from  being  unpleasant.  The  lady  was  a 
pretty  cousin  of  Dalegre's  in  the  town ; 
they  had  known  each  other  as  children, 
and  had  played  together  as  little  hus- 
band and  wife.  They  soon  grew  up,  and 
these    childish    ties     were    left    loosely 


The  Faience  Violin.  155 


knotted,  without  being  tightened  and 
without  being  severed. 

Dalegre  saw  his  cousin  from  time  to 
time  at  her  mother's  house,  but  she  did 
not  urge  him  on,  for  his  aunt,  with  her 
good  provincial  sense,  thought  that 
a  man  ought  to  get  rid  of  his  foohsh 
passions  before  having  a  family  of  his 
own ;  but  since  he  had  become  ab- 
sorbed in  his  collections,  Dalegre  made 
less  frequent  visits  to  his  relatives. 

Having  neglected  to  go  there  for 
three  months,  he  was  afraid  of  being 
reproached,  and  finally  did  not  dare  to 
go  to  see  his  aunt  at  all.  This  was 
the  state  of  things  even  before  Gardi- 
lanne's  arrival  in  Nevers. 

The  affair  of  the  faience  violin 
caused  Dalegre  to  be  consumed  with 
morbid  jealousy,  but  one  day  having 
somewhat  recovered  his  calmness  of 
mind,  his   reason    momentarily  gaining 


156  The  Faience  Violin. 


the  ascendency  reminded  him  that  he 
had  two  relatives  in  the  town  who  had  a 
right  to  complain  of  his  lack  of  good- 
breeding,  and  he  went  there  hoping  to 
find  some  consolation  in  a  peaceful 
home  where  all  passions  were  rigor- 
ously restrained. 

The  ladies  received  their  relative  af- 
fectionately, as  usual ;  but  they  showed 
so  much  anxiety  about  the  sudden 
change  which  had  taken  place  in  his 
appearance  that  Dalegre  felt  concerned 
about  himself,  considered  the  matter 
seriously,  and  decided  that  it  was  wise 
to    apply  an  immediate  remedy. 


XII. 

Two  days  later 
Dalegre  was  on  his 
way  to  Paris.  His 
first  visit  was  to 
Gardilanne ;  he  wished 
to  surprise  him  be- 
tween six  and  seven 
o'clock  in  the  even- 
ing, just  at  the  time 
when      the     collector, 


X-  — 


158  The  Faience  Violin. 

sitting  in  his  cushioned  arm-chair,  after 
finishing  a  modest  repast,  would  be 
bhssfully  contemplating  his  works  of 
art  arranged  about  him. 

Dalegre  knew  that  the  sight  of  the 
faience  violin  would  stab  him  in  the 
heart;  but  during  the  journey  he  pre- 
pared himself  for  this  cruel  blow,  and 
to  assure  himself,  he  brought  a  sort  of 
coat  of  mail :  this  was  —  to  have  a  last 
explanation  with  his  old  friend. 

Dalegre  came  to  Paris  to  see  Gardi- 
lanne,  as  an  invalid  goes  to  consult  a 
celebrated  practitioner ;  he  would  show 
him  what  damage  had  been  done  to 
him,  and  would  say  to  his  friend  : 

"  I  cannot  live  any  longer  without 
the  fa'ience  violin ,  if  I  cannot  have  it, 
I  shall  die  for  it !  " 

This  sort  of  determination  is  of  the 
kind  that  blunts  the  griefs  of  timid,  sol- 


The  Faience  Violin,  159 


itary  natures ;  they  are  continually 
building  these  scaffoldings,  which  seem 
simple  enough  in  theory  although  com- 
plicated in  practice. 

All  along  the  journey  Dalegre  tor- 
mented his  mind  in  search  of  a  petition 
to  address  to  Gardilanne ;  his  pro- 
ceeding seemed  to  him  a  very  natural 
thing. 

When  he  found  himself  face  to  face 
with  his  friend  he  did  not  know  what  to 
say.  His  tongue  became  paralyzed, 
and  Dalegre  felt  that  such  a  demand 
was  out  of  the  question  from  one  who 
had  so  plainly  refused  to  give  up  the 
faience  desk  to  the  collector. 

*'  My  dear  friend,  you  have  come  just 
in  time,"  said  Gardilanne  to  him;  **  the 
violin  is  furnished  with  strings.  In 
three  days  you  will  witness  a  curious 
spectacle ;  the  Faience  Club  give  an  en- 


i6o  The  Faience  Violin. 


tertainment,  in  which  a  musician  from 
the  Opera  is  going  to  play  an  air  on 
my  vioHn." 

Dalegre  bent  his  head  without 
breathing  a  word. 

"■  To-morrow  I  will  take  you  to  the 
Faience  Club,  and  you  will  thank  me  for 
it,  I  am  sure,  because  we  are  very  par- 
ticular about  the  selection  of  guests.... 
To  gain  admittance  to  our  circle,  it  is 
necessary  to  possess  a  collection  of 
curios,  and  a  certain  amount  of  familiar- 
ity with  ceramic  affairs." 

Dalegre's  face  failed  to  express  what 
his  friend  expected. 

"You  know,"  continued  Gardilanne, 
"  that  faience  is  the  fad  of  the  present 
day.  We  here  in  Paris  live  only  for 
faience ;  strangers  of  note  come  from 
all  parts  of  Europe  asking  to  be  re- 
ceived into  our  club." 


The  Faience  Violin,  i6i 


Gardilanne  strode  up  and  down  his 
room,  with  his  head  bent  forward,  his 
right  hand  extended,  as  if  he  had  really- 
received  a  visit  from  a  prince. 

"The  first  Friday  in  every  month," 
he  added,  "we  have  a  club  dinner, 
served  in  the  most  beautiful  fa"ience 
that  ever  was  seen ;  a  prize  is  awarded, 
in  the  course  of  the  evening,  to  the 
amateur  producing  an  unknown  speci- 
men.... To  give  you  an  idea  of  it,  last 
month  we  had  a  whole  service  of  vege- 
tables, flowers,  and  fruits  in  faience.  A 
physician  from  the  Boulevard  Beaumar- 
chais  had  spent  his  life  collecting  these 
beautiful  products,  —  asparagus,  pears, 
nuts,  peaches,  etc.  ;  the  illusion  was 
carried  so  far  that  we  did  not  notice 
until  we  were  about  to  eat  them  that 
these  fruits  were  glazed.  We  gave  a 
medal,  as    you  would  suppose,  to  this 


1 62  The  Faience  Violin. 


doctor  to  reward  him  for  his  labor  and 
his  researches." 

"  I  shall  do  well  to  consult  such  a 
practitioner,"  thought  Dalegre,  attacked 
with  the  malady  of  faience. 

Gardilanne  was  struck  by  his  friend's 
appearance,  and  asked  him  the  cause 
of  it. 

'*  I  have  not  been  very  well  for  a  long 
time. ..ever  since  you  went  away,"  said 
Dalegre,  beginning  to  play  his  cards. 

But  Gardilanne  did  not  seem  dis- 
posed to  take  the  hint. 

**  You  must  come  to  the  club,"  he  said, 
"  you  will  see  there  a  complete  service 
of  Rouen  a  la  corne.  It  came  into  our 
hands  at  a  low  price,  as  a  consequence 
of  a  divorce  granted  by  the  Court  in 
favor  of  a  collector's  wife,  whose  hus- 
band, in  his  pursuit  of  faience,  neglected 
her  a  little  too  much.    Imagining  that  the 


The  Faience  Violiyi.  163 


horns  had  brought  him  misfortune,  this 
man,  who  was  not  philosophical,  got 
rid  of  his  service  the  very  next  day; 
the  club  profited  by  it." 

Dalegre  did  not  care  for  the  horn  of 
Rouen,  and  hardly  followed  the  disserta- 
tions of  Gardilanne,  who  was  growing 
enthusiastic  without  suspecting  that  his 
friend  was  not  listening. 

"  If  you  have  a  few  days  to  spare," 
he  said,  "  I  will  present  you  to  an 
amateur  who  has  the  oddest  collec- 
tion imaginable.  He  collects  only  the 
faience  of  the  Revolution  of  1789: 
plates  of  the  Federation,  jugs  in  mem- 
ory of  constitutional  priests,  sauce-boats 
singing  the  virtues  of  M.  Necker,  soup- 
tureens  representing  the  taking  of  the 
Bastille.  This  strange  creature  has 
filled  his  house  from  top  to  bottom 
with  seditious  specimens,  covered  with 


164  The  Faience  Violin. 


incendiary  cries,  with  brutal  songs, 
which  debased  the  nobility  and  the 
clergy  at  the  same  time  that  they  led 
the  king  to  his  destruction.  Do  n't  ask 
me  how  one  can  collect  vile  pottery 
recalling  such  a  bloody  period.  This 
amateur  is  in  ill-favor  with  all  of  us,  for 
so  odious  a  collection  of  revolutionary 
faience  suggests  the  destruction  and  the 
pillage  of  works  of  art  of  every  sort." 

Really,  Gardilanne's  mobile  face,  dur- 
ing this  discourse,  showed  a  profound 
hatred  for  the  excesses  of  the  Terreur ; 
to  efface  this  sorry  impression,  a  smile 
suddenly  rested  on  the  collector's  lips. 

"  Monsieur  de  Baudricourt,  a  member 
of  our  club,  has  a  more  refined  taste, 
and  collects  only  fleurs-de-lis  applied 
to  plates,  the  faces  of  clocks,  fountains, 
hare-forms,  and  even  warming-pans.  It 
is  an  interesting  collection  which  can  but 


The  Faience  Violin.  165 


become  famous  in  the  future....  If  you 
prefer,  I  will  take  you  to  rue  de  Ven- 
d6me,  to  the  house  of  an  actor  who 
is  devoted  to  cocks  on  the  bottom  of 
plates....  He  possesses  seventeen  thou- 
sand of  them.  He  is  not  guided  by  any 
political  idea,  but  by  the  variety  of 
pose,  plumage,  and  coloring,  which  is 
remarkable  in  such  decorations ;  they 
say  that  these  seventeen  thousand  cocks 
painted  on  faience  have  already  cost 
him  a  considerable  sum." 

Such  details,  which  would  perhaps 
have  interested  Dalegre  once,  did  not 
turn  his  mind  from  his  fixed  idea; 
neither  the  Fa'ience  Club,  nor  the 
Rouen  a  la  corne,  nor  the  sauce-boat 
in  memory  of  M.  Necker's  disinter- 
estedness, nor  the  fleurs-de-lis,  nor  the 
cocks  could  keep  him  from  thinking  of 
the  faience  violin. 


[66  77?^  Faience  Violin, 


Gardilanne  took  him  to  the  house  of 
the  Messrs.  Crauk  Brothers.  Attacked 
by  the  epidemic,  these  rich  bankers 
took  pleasure  in  showing  to  amateurs  a 
thimble  of  the  time  of  Henry  II.  which 
had  cost  thirty-seven  thousand  francs 
at  the  late  Rattler's  sale ;  this  specimen, 
which  endangered  the  lives  of  the 
Messrs.  Crauk,  —  for  there  were  those 
who  envied  them,  —  left  Dalegre  in- 
different. 

The  crystalline  tone  of  the  violin  was 
constantly  sounding  in  his  ears. 

"■  Would  you  like  to  see  the  faience 
coach  which  belonged  to  Madame  Du- 
barry?"  asked  Gardilanne. 

But  Dalegre  could  find  no  compliment- 
ary words  for  those  plaques,  though  they 
were  covered  with  elegant  designs  from 
the  pottery  of  the  Marquis  de  Custine. 

He     saw,    also,    without     looking    at 


The  Faience  Violin.  167 


them,  the  faience  from  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  of  a  pink  color,  rosy  enough  to 
make  a  hypochondriac  happy  ;  nor  could 
the  colorings  of  the  Strasbourg  and 
Niderviller  faience  change  the  course  of 
his  ideas  poisoned  by  the  violin. 

Gardilanne  obtained  permission  for 
his  friend  to  visit  a  menagerie  belong- 
ing to  a  collector  from  the  lie  Saint 
Louis. 

The  court-yard  and  the  garden  were 
filled  with  faience  animals  of  natural 
size,  —  lions,  dogs,  furious-looking  drag- 
ons, which  seemed  ready  to  devour 
every  one  that  came  near  them. 

Dalegre  went  into  this  menagerie  as 
Orpheus  went  into  the  lower  regions, 
holding Gardilanne's  violin,  which,  alas! 
was  not  there,  under  his  arm,  and  defy- 
ing the  anger  of  these  faience  monsters. 

In  the  neighborhood  of  the  Luxem- 


1 68  77?^  Fateme  Violin. 


bourg  palace  lived  a  specialist  who 
collected  faience  chairs  solely.  This 
ingenious  amateur  possessed  only 
thirty-seven  of  them ;  but  they  were 
royal  pieces. 

In  looking  at  them,  one  could  think 
of  nothing  but  passing  one's  leisure 
moments  philosophically  in  these  seats 
from  the  pottery  of  Rouen  at  a  period 
when  Norman  art  was  a  delight  to  the 
eyes. 

Dalegre  still  preferred  the  violin  to 
the  sumptuous  seats. 

He  was  present  at  lively  debates 
between  the  amateurs  of  faience  and 
the  amateurs  of  porcelain.  Every- 
where he  heard  nothing  but  a  scornful 
outcry  against  antique  Chinese,  Japan- 
ese, and  Saxony  ware ;  even  the  deli- 
cate Sevres  paste  could  obtain  no  favor 
with  the  collectors  of  faience. 


The  Faience  Violin.  169 


These  discussions  did  not  make  Da- 
legre  forget  the  aim  of  his  journey. 

Every  day  he  said  to  himself  that  he 
would  confess  to  Gardilanne  the  cause 
of  his  misery,  although  he  felt  that  his 
friend  would  never  give  up,  for  his 
sake,  the  famous  violin  which  was  the 
envy  of  all  Paris ;  for  there  was  not 
a  collector  who  did  not  inquire  about 
the  extraordinary  instrument  the  mo- 
ment Gardilanne  appeared. 

Dalegre  went  back  to  Nevers  without 
revealing  the  secret  which  was  slowly 
bringing  him  to  the  grave ;  but  a  new 
idea  occurred  to  him,  and  that  was  to 
acknowledge  by  letter  to  Gardilanne 
the  cause  of  his  woe,  and  to  put  so 
much  sincerity  into  it  that  if  his  friend 
had  a  heart  of  stone  he  would  be 
touched  by  it. 

Dalegre's  letter,  read  at  the  Faience 


I70  The  Faience  yiolin. 

Club,  because  it  was  too  strong  a  con- 
firmation of  the  violin's  value  for  Gar- 
dilanne  to  keep  it  to  himself,  was  truly 
heart-rending.  In  it  the  Nivernian  de- 
scribed the  shock  he  received  from  the 
discovery  of  the  violin  by  his  rival,  the 
importance  he  attached  to  its  posses- 
sion, and  the  frightful  torments  which 
had  taken  away  his  gayety,  his  appe- 
tite, sleep,  and  the  pleasure  of  living. 

The  club  pitied  Dalegre  in  a  meas- 
ure. Each  one  of  the  members  was 
suffering  from  similar  maladies  in  dif- 
ferent degrees,  and  invalids  are  some- 
what interested  in  people  having  the 
same  afflictions ;  but  it  was  none  the  less 
a  curious  case,  and  if  the  Faience  Club 
had  possessed  a  Bulletin,  no  doubt 
Dalegre  would  have  figured  in  it  as 
large  as  life. 

Gardilanne's  glory  was  as  much  en- 


The  Faience  l^iolin.  171 


hanced  by  it  as  that  of  a  pretty  woman 
for  love  of  whom  a  number  of  adorers 
blow  their  brains  out. 

"■  What  will  you  say  in  reply  to  your 
provincial?"  asked  the  collector,  with- 
out pity  for  Dalegre. 

Gardilanne  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
for  his  friend's  desire  was  so  out  of  all 
proportion,  and  impossible  to  satisfy; 
however,  as  the  collector  had  a  pleasant 
recollection  of  Nevers,  for  it  was  really 
through  Dalegre's  hospitality  that  Gar- 
dilanne had  discovered  the  violin,  he 
replied  that  he  would  promise  to  leave 
the  instrument  to  him  after  his  death. 
His  letter,  he  said,  had  made  him  think 
of  the  necessity  of  making  a  will,  and 
Dalegre  should  be  named  as  the  appro- 
priate heir  to  the  violin,  if  he  survived 
his  friend. 

What  joy,  what  delight  to  the  Niver- 


1/2  The  Faience  Violin. 


nian !  It  had  been  so  long  since  his 
heart  had  been  open  to  cheerfulness  ! 

He  imagined  himself  already  in  pos- 
session of  the  violin,  and  wished  to 
tell  every  one  about  it.  He  ran  to  his 
cousin's  and  surprised  her  with  the 
return  of  his  good-humor.  Dalegre 
had  come  back  like  the  Dalegre  of 
old,  —  gay,  lively,  with  his  mind  turned 
to  agreeable  things ;  he  himself  en- 
joyed the  unexpected  return  of  that 
happy  serenity  so  much  prized  in  life. 
He  talked,  told  stories,  he  laughed,  and 
every  time  he  laughed,  his  mind,  so 
long  deprived  of  pleasant  thoughts,  was 
comforted. 

Dalegre  felt  that  he  was  growing  old 
before  his  time ;  the  perfume  of  a 
second  youth  filled  his  brain. 

He  went  into  his  garden,  which  he 
had    neglected,   and  which  would  have 


77?^  Fdieme  Violin.  173 


been  inaccessible  if  the  old  Marguerite 
had  not  seen  to  the  pruning  of  the 
trees.  Dalegre  was  surprised  at  the 
tender  color  of  the  roses,  at  their  sweet 
perfume.  The  fresh  air  coming  from 
the  Nievre  was  refreshing  to  his 
brow. 

Dalegre  thought  of  the  flowers,  the 
water,  the  trees.  If  it  had  been  the 
time  for  hunting,  he  would  have  gone 
into  the  woods  again ;  if  the  winter 
evenings  had  not  been  over,  he  would 
have  shown  himself  as  an  indefatigable 
dancer. 

The  Nivernian  happened  to  take  a 
look  at  himself;  he  grew  quite  ashamed 
of  his  clothes,  for  they  had  not  been 
changed  for  a  long  time,  and  he  hurried 
to  his  wardrobe,  took  out  an  elegant 
waistcoat,  a  pair  of  spring  trousers,  a 
fancy    coat,    and    fastened    a    rose    in 


174 


The  Faience  Violin. 


his  button-hole.  In  this  way  he  went 
through  the  town. 

This  sudden  revolution  was  caused 
by  Gardilanne's  promise. 

*'  I  shall  have  the  violin  !  "  exclaimed 
Dalegre,  taking  the  old  Marguerite  into 
his  confidence ;  and  she  was  happy  to 
see  this  transformation,  because  she  had 
borne  with  difficulty  her  master's  ill- 
nature  since  his  fatal  mania  for  collect- 
ing had  begun. 


XIII. 

Such  enthusiasm 
could  not  last. 

At  the  end  of  a 
week  Dalegre  felt  the 
reaction  from  the  in- 
toxication, and  now 
thought  of  nothing  but 
succeeding  Gardilanne, 


rr  i 


and  consequently  of  his  death. 


-^. 


1/6  The  Faience  Violin. 


Gardilanne  had  a  hardy  constitution, 
with  legs  Hke  a  stag,  spare  and  thin ;  his 
passion  induced  him  to  take  exercise, 
the  best  hygiene.  He  was  not  a  man 
to  grow  torpid  in  an  easy-chair,  to  let 
his  Hmbs  waste  away  in  contemplation, 
like  a  Turk. 

Who  could  foretell  the  end  of  a  col- 
lector in  all  the  strength  of  his  prime, 
wise  enough,  moreover,  to  refrain  from 
the  consuming  pleasures  of  life  in 
Paris  ? 

Life  in  the  country  passes  peacefully. 
But  how  burdensome  it  can  become 
when  a  passionate  being  lives  with  the 
inseparable  idea  of  a  distant  inheritance  ! 

If  Gardilanne  had  acted  maliciously, 
he  could  not  have  invented  a  more 
cruel  torture  to  chastise  a  rival.  The 
violin  was  changed  to  a  ball  and  chain 
fastened  to   Dalegre's  leg. 


The  Faience  Violin,  17 j 


In  the  first  moment  of  hope,  he  had 
overturned  the  arrangement  of  his  col- 
lection, and  kept  a  place  in  which  to 
put  the  violin.  This  empty  space  he 
was  obliged  to  fill,  it  oppressed  his 
heart  so  much  whenever  his  eyes 
rested   on    it. 

Formerly  Dalegre  felt  flattered  by 
having  visitors  come  to  see  his  col- 
lection ;  it  was  burdensome  to  him 
now,  because  it  was  so  inferior  to  the 
treasures  accumulated  by  the  diff'erent 
Parisian  specialists,  whose  choice  speci- 
mens of  faience  he  had  been  allowed  to 
touch. 

Dalegre  was  still  on  the  look-out  for 
rare  specimens,  and  occasionally  found 
them ;  but  no  province,  however  rich 
in  works  of  art,  can  compare  with  the 
treasures  pouring  into  the  H6tel  Drouot 
of  the  auctioneers',    who,   during  eight 


78  The  Faience  I^iolin. 


months  of  the  year,  heap  up  mountains 
of  unequalled  curiosities  coming  from 
the  most  distant  places  in  Europe. 

Not  to  be  out  of  the  current,  Dalegre 
occasionally  went  to  dine  at  the  Hotel 
des  Voyageurs,  sure  to  fall  in  there 
with  some  chineiir^  such  as  go  into 
the  country,  force  their  way  into  the 
houses,  are  put  out  at  the  door  by  the 
distrustful  bourgeois  women,  but  get  in 
again  at  the  window,  and  rummage 
about  the  house  from  cellar  to  garret, 
hunting  for  antique  objects. 

When  he  met  one  of  these  mer- 
chants, Dalegre  escaped  from  his  ennuiy 
because  the  man  brought,  so  to  speak, 
the  dust  and  smell  of  Paris  with  him. 

Dalegre  would  invite  him  to  see  his 
collection,  he  would  talk  ceramics,  and 
kept  his  hand  in  by  bringing  up  the 
subject  of  his  beloved  faience  violin. 


The  Fdiaice  Violin,  179 


The  instrument  had  attained  a  genu- 
ine popularity  in  Europe,  and  one  day 
Dalegre  received  from  Gardilanne  a 
monograph  pubHshed  about  the  pre- 
cious object. 

A  Dutchman,  a  member  of  the 
Amicitia  society  of  Amsterdam,  had 
come  to  find  out  about  the  famous 
specimen,  and  as  he  possessed  the 
national  characteristics  developed  to 
the  highest  degree,  he  had  the  audacity 
to  attribute  the  origin  of  the  violin  to 
the  potteries  of  Delft. 

The  Faience  Club  was  greatly  exer- 
cised by  this  assertion,  based  solely  on 
two  little  crossed  hooks,  seen  through 
the  opening  of  the  ff,  the  mark  of 
the  celebrated  Bisbroock,  according  to 
the  Dutchman. 

The  club  immediately  subscribed  to 
have  a  monograph  printed  to  put  down 


i8o  The  Faience  Violin, 


the  Dutchman,  and  the  opponents  who 
had  held  heated  discussions  every  day 
among  themselves  in  favor  of  Rouen, 
or  Niderviller,  Nevers,  Marseilles,  les 
Ilettes,  or  Sinceny,  now  forgot  their 
grievances  and  united  against  their 
rival.  It  was  a  matter  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  defend  the  ceramics 
of  France  against  a  nation,  which, 
because  it  had  received  inspiration  from 
China  and  Japan,  was  so  proud  as  to 
pretend  to  make  all  Europe  admit  the 
superiority  of  its  potteries. 

The  ruin  of  Delft  was  decreed,  and 
a  skilful  pen  was  charged  with  dealing 
hard  blows  at  the  conceited  Hollander. 

An  exact  drawing  of  the  faience 
violin  was  added  to  the  pamphlet,  to- 
gether with  different  sections  and  posi- 
tions, in  order  that  connoisseurs  could 
judge  whether  the  elegant  designs  and 


The  Faience  Violin.  i8i 


delicately  drawn  figures  bore  any  re- 
semblance to  the  customary  subjects  of 
Delft  painters. 

The  monograph  contained,  besides, 
the  opinion  of  a  learned  chemist  from 
the  Sevres  manufactory,  who  had 
studied  with  a  microscope  the  character 
of  the  paste,  a  spot  having  been  found 
where  the  paste  was  not  covered  with 
the  glaze. 

The  author  of  the  monograph  did 
not  hesitate  to  place  the  cradle  of  the 
violin  in  Nevers ;  but  it  was  especially 
on  the  polemical  side  that  he  tri- 
umphed. What  material  for  raillery 
was  furnished  by  the  plaques  of  Delft 
ware,  so  numerous  that  the  Dutch,  not 
knowing  what  to  do  with  them,  went 
so  far  as  to  put  representations  of 
princes  of  the  House  of  Orange  even 
into  their  stables  to  entertain   the  ani- 


1 82  The  Faience  Violin, 


mals,  believing  it  would  fill  their  brains 
with  pleasing  images,  and  interest  the 
large-eyed  oxen  crouching  on  their 
beds  of  hay. 

Dalegre  was  both  delighted  and 
grieved  as  he  read  this  monograph, 
which  was  to  make  the  faience  violin 
distinguished,  and  arouse  all  Europe 
with  its  ardent  polemics. 

Would  such  a  marvellous  thing  ever 
have  a  place  in  his  collection?  Would 
not  Gardilanne  forget  his  promise? 
Had  he  really  willed  it  to  Dalegre?  It 
was  possible  that  some  day  a  fancy 
would  impel  him  to  tear  up  this  will 
and  make  another  of  an  opposite  pur- 
port to  his  first  intentions  ! 

The  Nivernian's  life  was  tinged  more 
than  ever  with  gray.  The  tones  of  the 
violin,  which  he  heard  constantly,  so 
sweet  and  crystalline,  instead  of  work- 


The  Faience  Violin.  183 


ing  the  charm  attributed  to  music,  fur- 
rowed his  face  with  a  thousand  wrinkles 
where  perplexity,  uneasiness,  jealousy, 
and  even  hatred  dwelt. 

Dalegre  was  surprised  to  find  himself 
wishing  Gardilanne  dead,  and  his  soul 
expanded  at  the  thought. 

Collectors  have  no  heart ! 

But  these  wrong  feelings  were  pun- 
ished immediately  by  the  sufferings 
Dalegre  created  for  himself. 

A  year  after  the  publication  of  the 
monograph  against  Delft,  Dalegre, 
while  reading  the  newspaper,  received 
a  blow  as  severe  as  a  butcher  gives  to 
an  ox  in  the  slaughter-house. 

It  was  only  two  lines  among  the  mis- 
cellaneous items,  but  two  lines,  each 
letter  of  which  was  full  of  poison. 

Gardilanne  had  offered  his  collection 
to  the  Cluny    Museum.     The    minister 


184  The  Faience  Violin. 


accepted  the  gift,  and  ordered  a  special 
room  to  be  opened,  to  bear  the  name 
of  the  Gardilanne  Collection.  As  a  re- 
ward for  this  sacrifice,  the  ex-chief  clerk 
was  named  curator  of  his  own  treasures. 

If  a  blood-vessel  had  burst  in  Da- 
legre's  chest  he  would  not  have  suffered 
more.  The  thought  of  the  violin,  the 
rarest  specimen  in  Gardilanne's  collec- 
tion,   came    immediately    to    his   mind. 

Was  it  probable  that  he  would  sepa- 
rate it  from  the  rest  in  order  to  make  a 
present  of  it  to  a  simple  country  col- 
lector? It  seemed  a  delicate  matter  to 
write  about  it  to  Gardilanne,  and  to 
remind  him  of  his  promise ;  however, 
ought  he  not  to  make  sure  of  it  before 
the  collection  should  be  placed  in  the 
Cluny  Museum. 

Dalegre  found  an  expedient;  it  was 
to  send  his  friend  a  few  words  of  hearty 


The  Faience  Violin,  185 


approval  concerning  his  generosity. 
Dalegre  even  offered  to  increase  Gardi- 
lanne's  gift  by  adding  some  rare  speci- 
mens which  he  said  he  had  recently 
discovered. 

The  truth  was  that  Dalegre  would 
gladly  have  given  up,  at  this  time,  all 
his  faience  in  exchange  for  the  violin, 
which  he  saw  escaping  from  his  grasp. 

Like  most  collectors,  he  had  become 
satiated  with  the  sight  of  his  treasures, 
from  having  looked  at  the  principal 
specimens  too  much ;  he  had  grown  in- 
different to   them. 

Contrary  to  all  expectation,  Gar- 
dilanne  did  not  reply  to  the  friendly 
offers  of  Dalegre,  whose  anxiety  was 
consequently  greatly  increased.  No 
thanks  at  all  for  his  disinterestedness. 
It  was  the  greatest  mortification  a  sen- 
sitive man  could  feel. 


1 86  77?^  Fdieme  Violin. 


Dalegre  was  very  much  hurt  about 
it,  because  he  felt  that  not  to  reply  to 
his  letter  meant  a  rupture  on  Gardi- 
lanne's  part;  not  caring  to  fulfil  his 
promise,  he  had  probably  taken  this 
way  of  showing  plainly  that  he  had 
changed  his  former  plans. 

Dalegre  had  a  mind  to  go  to  Paris 
to  reproach  his  friend  for  destroying 
the  illusions  which  had  sustained  him 
for  so  many  years,  to  move  him  to 
pity,  to  make  him  touch  the  bleeding 
wounds  caused  by  the  violin ;  but, 
judging  other  collectors  by  himself, 
Dalegre  knew  their  hearts  were  unfeel- 
ing and  hard,  covered  with  glaze  as 
cold  as  that  of  porcelain;  blame  and 
reproach  would  slide  off  this  glaze  and 
make  no  impression. 

Shut  up  in  a  little  town  without  a 
horizon,  and    yet   with    no    retirement, 


The  Faience  Violin.  187 


fearing  that  he  would  be  commiserated, 
suffering  from  inconsiderate  questions, 
Dalegre  became  a  veritable  martyr  to 
faience.  He  passed  long  sleepless 
nights,  and  prayed  Death  to  relieve 
him  from  his  woes. 

Death  did  not  come  to  the  house  of 
the  Nivernian. 

As  he  heard  nothing  but  faience 
talked  about,  perhaps  he  mistook  the 
door;  for  he  seized  Gardilanne  ab- 
ruptly, and  carried  him  away  before 
he  had  established  his  collection  in 
the  Cluny  Museum. 

One  morning  the  celebrated  amateur 
was  found  lifeless  in  his  easy-chair, 
surrounded  by  the  rich  objects,  in  the 
midst  of  which  he  had  suddenly  passed 
away. 

The  same  day  a  telegram,  sent  by  a 
notary,  informed  Dalegre  of  the  event. 


i88 


The  Faience  Violin. 


and    the    mention  of  a  special    gift    in 
Gardilanne's  estate. 

Dalegre  was  beside  himself,  and 
started  at  once  for  Paris  to  attend  his 
friend's    funeral.     As    soon    as    he    left 


the  coach  he  went  directly  to  the 
notary's  to  assure  himself  that  the 
faience  violin  was  the  object  mentioned 
in  the  last  will  of  the  testator. 

Gardilanne  had  kept  his  word.     Now 


The  Faience  Violin,  189 


the  famous  instrument  was  to  pass  into 
the  hands  of  the  man  whose  life  it  had 
tormented. 

During  the  funeral  service,  Dalegre 
felt  a  single  tear  run  down  his  cheek. 
It  would  have  required  study  to  make 
out  just  exactly  what  different  senti- 
ments it  was  composed  of;  but  these 
are  the  very  elements  which  chemistry 
is  incapable  of  analyzing. 


XIV. 

The  violin  was  not 
only  a  unique  speci- 
men, but  also  it  pos- 
sessed an  unusual 
quality  in  the  ce- 
ramic art,  that  is  to 
say,  a  very  rare  regu- 
larity of  form  and 
coloring. 

n 


The  Faience  Violin,  191 


The  fire  had  left  It  without  a 
blemish ;  the  colors  were  nowhere 
blotted  by  spreading-  beyond  the  limits 
laid  out  for  them. 

It  was  a  perfect  specimen  of  priceless 
worth,  for  pieces  mended  with  rivets, 
touched  up  with  paint,  varnish  substi- 
tuted for  glaze,  plaster  for  baked  clay, 
are  things  too  often  found  in  the  col- 
lections of  some  amateurs  who  care 
more  for  appearance  than  real  worth. 

Except  the  bridge  and  the  keys  for 
holding  the  strings,  the  instrument  was 
entirely  of  faience.  Dalegre  remem- 
bered the  excessive  care  Gardilanne 
formerly  took  about  packing  it,  and  the 
violin,  softly  wrapped  in  its  case,  made 
the  journey  from  Paris  to  Nevers  on  its 
new  owner's  knees. 

Dalegre's  fellow-citizens  recognized 
by  his  appearance  that  his  troubles  had 


192  The  Faience  Violin. 


taken  flight  and  left  him  in  a  more 
cheerful  frame  of  mind. 

Gardilanne's  death  added  ten  years 
to  Dalegre's  life.  He  was  not  the  same 
man  ;  his  journey  had  made  him  young 
again,  it  was  a  pleasure  to  look  at  his 
face. 

As  soon  as  he  left  the  coach,  after 
giving  a  maternal  look  at  the  precious 
thing  warmly  hidden  in  its  bed  of  cotton, 
he  went  through  the  town  telling  of  the 
good  news  and  inviting  every  one  he  met 
to  come  the  next  day  to  see  the  violin 
reinstated  forever  in  its  birthplace. 

It  was  the  very  day  on  which  Danel's 
Feiiille  d' Avis  appeared.  Dalegre  went 
in  search  of  the  printer  and  told  him 
about  the  return  to  Nevers  of  the 
faience  violin,  the  loss  of  which  all  the 
Parisian  newspapers  were  mourning 
over. 


The  Faience  Violin.  193 


Danel  listened  attentively  to  the 
story  in  order  to  take  it  all  in,  promised 
to  have  an  article  in  his  paper  under  the 
local  news,  went  to  the  cafe  to  play  his 
usual  game  of  piquet,  complaining  of 
the  absorbing  profession  of  journalism, 
which  kept  one's  imagination  incessantly 
at  work. 

Dalegre  went  home  about  four 
o'clock,  in  order  to  have  time  to 
give  the  violin  a  place  of  honor  in  his 
collection  and  enjoy  it  while  at  dinner. 

Those  who  have  never  studied  a  col- 
lector can  have  no  idea  what  goes  on  in 
his  mind  at  certain  times.  Nothing  in 
a  collection  of  curios  is  sacrificed  to 
chance ;  it  takes  profound  meditation  to 
decide  whether  a  Chinese  pipe  should 
be  placed  above  a  dried  toad  from 
Malabar,  or  whether  a  tunic  of  gold 
cloth  does  not  make  too  rich  a  back- 


194  The  Faience  Violin, 


ground  for  the  dim  colors  of  a  mummy 
case. 

Dalegre  was  full  of  tact  in  such  a 
matter.  He  took  care  not  to  spoil  the 
effect  of  the  violin  by  surrounding  it 
with  incongruous  faience.  As  the  in- 
strument was  decorated  in  monochrome, 
good  taste  demanded  to  have  it  away 
from  all  pottery  of  a  brilliant  coloring. 

Everything  in  the  room  was  to  be 
sacrificed  to  the  violin ;  Dalegre  was 
quite  right  in  thinking  that  it  would  be 
wise  to  change  the  hangings  to  make 
the  faience  violin  stand  out  against  a 
background  of  a  neutral  tone ;  then, 
the  marvellous  thing  must  be  placed 
high  enough  to  be  out  of  the  way  of 
profane  fingers,  and  at  the  same  time 
low  enough  that  its  owner,  standing  on 
a  stool,  could  admire  the  perfectly  ad- 
mirable specimen  from  all  sides. 


The  Faience  Violin,  195 


At  six  o'clock  old  Marguerite  had 
twice  -  announced  dinner  and  did  not 
dare  to  appear  again,  for  Dalegre's 
abrupt  wave  of  the  hand  had  sent  her 
away,  as  though  the  collector  had  been 
disturbed  just  when  he  was  about  to 
change    the    face    of  Europe. 

He  was  rearranging  his  faience. 

His  hair  pushed  back,  the  light  in  his 
eyes,  the  color  in  his  cheeks,  showed 
what  importance  Dalegre  attached  to 
the  arrangement  of  his  collection. 

He  had  just  placed  the  three  curious 
musical  plates  in  a  triangle  underneath 
the  empty  space  reserved  for  the  violin, 
and  Dalegre  could  not  help  admiring 
his  cleverness  in  placing  the  *'  canons  " 
of  Monsieur  de  Mondonville  near  the 
instrument;  he  wondered,  however, 
whether  the  ladies  who  would  be  likely 
to    visit    his  collection  would  not    be 


196  The  Faience  Violin. 


shocked   by  the   rather    pointed  words 
of  the    brunette  beginning  merrily: 

Croyez-vovs  qu''A7tiovr  m^attrape 
De  m^avoij'  oste  Catin  ? 

But  are  not  collectors  allowed  some 
license? 

This  brunette  was  really  so  lively 
that  Dalegre,  who  had  a  little  smatter- 
ing of  music,  could  not  refrain  from 
trying  to  play  the  air  at  once  on  the 
marvellous  violin,  the  tones  of  which  he 
had  never  heard  except  in  his  dreams. 

The  daylight  was  beginning  to  fade. 
Dalegre  called  his  servant,  who  hast- 
ened to  him,  thinking  that  he  was  ready 
to  have  the  dinner  served.  It  was  not 
a  question  of  dining.  Dalegre  only 
wished  to  treat  himself  to  some  music ; 
a  little  light  just  at  that  moment  was  all 
he  thought  of. 


The  Faience  Violin,  197 


Grumbling  all  the  while  about  the 
faience,  Marguerite  brought  a  lamp  and 
went  out  saying  that  the  dinner  would 
not  be  fit  to  eat. 

Dalegre  had  something  else  to  think 
about. 

He  had  to  string  the  violin,  for  he 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  loosen  the 
keys  so  as  not  to  stretch  the  strings  un- 
necessarily during  the  journey,  and  he 
began  to  tune  it  like  an  ordinary 
instrument. 

When  the  strings  were  adjusted, 
Dalegre  took  the  bow  and  tried  to  play 
some  chords,  but  the  muffled  tone 
showed  that  the  bridge  was  not  prop- 
erly placed.  In  order  to  remedy  this, 
Dalegre  was  obliged  to  turn  the  pegs  of 
the  violin  again. 

Suddenly  an  ominous  cracking  was 
heard.     The  faience    belly    broke,  fell, 


198  The  Faience  Violin. 


was  shivered  into  twenty  pieces,  and 
Dalegre  stood  bewildered  with  the  neck 
of  the  instrument  in  his  hand  ! 

For  a  moment  he  was  speechless. 

Dalegre  was  wild  with  rage.  He 
gave  a  frightful  scream,  angrily  threw 
down  the  only  piece  that  was  left  of  the 
wonder,  and  full  of  fury  rushed  at  the 
faience  on  the  walls. 

The  servant,  hearing  the  noise,  ran 
into  the  room,  found  her  master  beside 
himself,  his  eyes  blood-shot,  convulsed 
with  rage,  dealing  blows  on  all  sides 
with  increasing  violence,  and  working 
fresh  destruction  with  every  blow. 

Marguerite  tried  to  seize  hold  of 
him.  Dalegre  did  not  know  her, 
fought  against  her,  and  coming  in  con- 
tact with  a  chest  filled  with  rare  pot- 
tery, pushed  the  woman  against  it,  so  that 
it  fell  with  a  deafening  noise. 


The  Fdie7ice  Violin,  199 


The  room  looked  out  on  the  street. 
Marguerite's  cries  brought  the  neigh- 
bors in  crowds,  and  they  crushed  under 
their  feet  the  last  scattered  frag- 
ments of  the  precious  collection ;  and 
when,  after  repeated  efforts,  they  suc- 
ceeded in  checking  Dalegre's  mad 
career,  not  a  trace  was  left  of  what  had 
been  his  delight,  his  sole  thought  for 
five  years. 

It  can  be  imagined  what  a  sensation 
this  event  occasioned  in  the  town.  The 
alarm  was  given.  The  firemen  arrived 
on  the  scene.  A  little  more  and  the 
tocsin  would  have  sounded. 

The  details  of  this  disaster  were  re- 
corded in  Danel's  Feuille  d' Avis}  in 
which  historians  of  ceramic  art  will  find 
valuable  information. 

Danel  was  put  to   his  wit's   ends   to 

1  Year  i860,  March  15,  No.  29,  first  page,  second  column. 


200  The  Faience  Violin, 


supply  the  technical  terms  of  which  he 
had  not  the  slightest  inkling. 

Dalegre  was  spoken  of  as  *'  one  of 
our  most  estimable  fellow-citizens," 
suddenly  attacked  with  a  high  fever, 
which,  at  first,   caused    great    anxiety, 


but  which  '*  a  skilful  practitioner  from 
the    city"    hoped    to    dispel. 

Although  for  five  years  Dalegre  had 
renounced  the  world  and  the  pleasures 
of  society,  the  people  in  the  town  felt 


The  Faience  yiolin.  201 


sorry  for  him,  all  except  the  lawyer 
Balandrau,  who,  unable  to  resist  the 
temptation  of  making  a  joke,  one  even- 
ing at  the  cafe  ventured  this  remark 
about  the  accident: 

**  Dalegre,"  he  said,  "  has  fallen  in 
de faience!  "^ 

Wits  are  heartless. 

^  Meaning  defaillance  —  a  swoon  or  collapse. 


At  the  end  of  a 
month,  Dalegre,  pale 
and  emaciated, 
awoke  as  from  a 
frightful  dream,  dur- 
ing which  he  had 
seen  before  him,  in  a 
panorama  of  strange 
pictures,  the  thoughts 
and  deeds  which  for 
the    last    five    years 


had  absorbed  his  mind. 


The  Faience  Violin,  203 


Faience  had  appeared  to  him  in  the 
shape  of  a  horrible  mandrake  rising 
above  France,  with  its  feet  resting  at 
the  same  time  on  Rouen,  Strasbourg, 
Moustiers,  and  Nevers,  which  it  held 
under  its  dominion. 

The  inhabitants  of  these  towns  were 
themselves  beings  of  fa'ience,  shining 
and  polished,  but  forbidden  to  hold 
intercourse  with  each  other,  lest  they 
should  spoil  their  glaze.  They  were 
cold  creatures,  condemned  to  selfish- 
ness, never  speaking,  living  absolutely 
motionless,  and  fearing  the  mandrake. 

In  consequence  of  difficulties  arising 
daily  between  empires  the  most  united 
in  appearance,  the  different  towns  quar- 
relled together,  and  a  jealous  rival, 
Delft,  took  advantage  of  it  to  impose 
its  laws  upon   them. 

A  thousand  queer  pictures  thus  un- 


204  77/^  Faience  Violin. 


folded  in  Dalegre's  mind,  until  the  day 
when  these  care-born  nightmares  were 
followed  by  returning  health,  a  call  back 
to  life,  the  aid  of  two  women,  full  of 
devotion,  the  younger  of  whom  did  not 
conceal  the  tender  interest  she  felt  in 
her  dear  patient. 

Dalegre's  aunt  and  cousin  came  at 
once  to  watch  by  his  bedside,  during 
the  long  period  that  these  troubles  tor- 
mented his  brain ;  they  really  feared 
insanity. 

Six  months  later,  Dalegre,  completely 
restored  to  health,  married  his  cousin, 
and  became  a  model  husband. 

Children  came  to  bless  the  happy 
pair,  and  Dalegre,  as  he  looked  affec- 
tionately at  their  transparent  com- 
plexions and  the  bright  color  in  their 
cheeks,  often  declared  to  his  beloved 
wife,  that  the  happiness  which  collectors 


The  Faience  Violin, 


205 


found  among  the  old  relics  of  the  past 
was  only  an  illusion.  "  Deprived  of  the 
tetider  joys  of  domestic  life,"  he  would 
say,  '*  they  must  feel  their  souls  daily 
growing  hard,  their  best  feelings  turning 
to  stone." 


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